


Who Is He?

by itislacey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens, Arguments, Avengers - Freeform, Bants, Blood, Car Accidents, Comfort, Dogs, Father-Son Relationship, Field Trip, Heartfelt Conversations, Hostage Situation, Humor, I promise, Near Death Experiences, Precious Peter Parker, Sensory Overload, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony gets hurt, but it's all happy endings, i'll add tags as i go, injuries, peter gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15201425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itislacey/pseuds/itislacey
Summary: A series of one-shots and little snippets of Peter Parker's life with Tony Stark & The Avengers!More chapters will be added eventually - some may connect loosely while others may not connect at all. They can all be read individually, but what's the fun in that? ;)Summaries will be posted before each chapter!NOTE: there is no "1/?" chapters because I add on chapters when I have new material, so it will always appear as if it's complete. But I will state in the author's note of when there will be no more chapters!*Edit on 5/15/2019: so this work is officially complete! I feel like there's not much more I can add here and it's plenty of words for a decent read. I hope you enjoy(ed) this work :)





	1. Who is he?

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Peter gets woken up in the middle of the night and goes to investigate, thinking there are invaders in the compound.

At four thirty in the morning, Peter woke with a groan.

He rolled over in his bed, eyeing the alarm clock that shone too brightly for his liking. He let his eyes slip closed, hoping sleep would come for him once again, but his ears picked up on unfamiliar sounds in the compound, causing him to wake up and be on high alert.

Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes, focusing on the sounds wafting through the hall outside his door. They were very quiet, just low enough that he couldn't make out the words that were being said. But he definitely knew it was people talking - people that weren’t usually in the compound at this time of night. 

Or was it day?

Peter shook his head. It didn’t matter.

He threw the covers off of him and stood up quietly, padding softly over to his bedroom door. It wasn’t too hard for him to be stealthy - thanks to his spider powers - but he wanted to be as quiet as possible, as he didn’t know who was in the compound and if anyone would be able to hear him.

God, he hoped Mr. Stark was aware of this. He  _ really  _ didn’t feel like fighting anyone at this time. He was still tired.

~~~   


“All I’m saying is that this could have waited,” Tony Stark said, dragging a hand down his face. It was too early for this. He had finally gotten to sleep at around three, only for Friday to alert him of incoming company. Company he strictly didn’t remember inviting. 

“If it could have waited,” Natasha Romanov said, “then I wouldn’t have come here so early. Or late. Whichever way you decide to look at it.” She folded her arms over her chest, looking around the room. “Trust me, I didn’t want to come here, either. Especially not at four in the morning.”

“Nearly five now,” Steve Rogers chimed in, suppressing a yawn. 

Yeah, Tony was  _ not  _ happy about him being part of the “incoming company” Friday had mentioned. 

Natasha shrugged. “The quicker we start this case, the quicker we can go back to bed.” 

Tony sighed. “I need coffee if we are going to start this now.” He stood up and stretched, his arms high above his head. “Anyone else want any?” 

“No, thanks,” Steve declined, while Natasha only shook her head.

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back. Try not to snoop.” Tony shot a look at Natasha. “And be quiet.” 

Natasha raised a brow. “If there’s anyone else in this building, Stark, I highly doubt they can hear us talking. Isn’t this your private floor?” 

“It  _ was,  _ until you two showed up, uninvited,” Tony added. “I’m going to get coffee. I’ll be back.” He left the room without another word, leaving Natasha and Steve alone. 

“That’s strange,” Natasha mused, walking slowly around the room. 

“What is?” Steve asked, watching her movements. 

She eyed the blanket thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch. “Why would we need to be quiet on Stark’s private floor? Shouldn’t he be the only one on it?” 

Steve shrugged. “Maybe Pepper is here? Maybe she’s sleeping in the other room and he doesn’t want us to wake her.” 

Natasha shook her head. “Ms. Potts isn’t here.” 

Steve wanted to ask how she could possibly know, until he realized that she probably did. “So, what? You’re saying there’s someone else on Stark’s  _ private  _ floor?”

She continued looking around the room, spotting the remotes to the TV resting between two cushions on the love seat. This may be Stark’s private floor, but Natasha knew that Stark would never lounge in the living room and just watch TV. Especially not  _ this  _ living room. He had his own space in his lab that he chose to relax in. Or he relaxed in his bedroom. But never in here. He only used this space for meetings such as this one. Or to make false impressions.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she finally answered. 

“If it’s not Pepper, who else would be staying here? On this floor, no less?” 

Natasha paused, scanning the dark doorways that left the living room. “I don’t know.” Her eye caught on something opposite of the doorway, but it was gone as quickly as she looked. Not to mention whatever it was - it hadn’t been on the floor. It was peeking over the  _ top  _ of the doorframe. Like it was on the  _ ceiling.  _

Just as she was about to storm over there to investigate, Tony came strolling back into the room, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. 

Tony paused when he saw Natasha nearing the doorway at the far end of the room. “I thought I said not to snoop?”

Natasha turned around, a scowl on her face. “It’s not snooping. It’s investigating.”

“And what’s to investigate in a compound you’ve been in a hundred times?” Tony asked, sipping his coffee. “You can admit it, Romanov. You were snooping.” 

“I was not snooping,” she said defensively. “If you want to catch someone who  _ is  _ snooping, perhaps you should tell the person who’s watching us to back off.” 

Tony stared blankly at her. “What are you on about?” 

“We are being watched,” Natasha stated. “I was going to find out by who. So, no, I wasn’t snooping.” 

Tony sighed. Yeah, it was way too early for this. He set down his cup of coffee and walked across the room to where Natasha stood. Tony didn’t even need to walk through the doorway to see who was there. 

“Last I checked, kid, this wasn’t your bedroom,” Tony said, staring down the dark corridor.

Steve and Natasha didn’t have time to process what Tony had just said, as they were too busy concentrating on the mop of brown hair that peeked over the top of the door frame, followed by a set of eyes. 

“Uh,” Steve brilliantly said.

“What the hell?” Natasha muttered, looking back at Steve, who looked just as dumbfounded as her. 

“Get down, kid,” Tony said. “I think you’re freaking them out and you know I don’t like it when you walk on my ceilings.” 

Slowly, the kid lowered himself from the ceiling, landing on the floor with a very quiet thud. He ducked his head, embarrassed for being caught. 

“Who is that?” Natasha asked Tony. 

Tony ignored her, still looking at the young boy in front of them. “Want to tell me why you were spying?” 

The kid shook his head.

“So now you’re going to be shy?” Tony asked incredulously. He side eyed Natasha. “He’s a little shy.”

“Okay, but who is he, exactly?” she asked. 

“Tony, do you have a kid?” Steve piped up from the couch where he still sat, frozen. 

Tony shot him a look. “I have never given my DNA to a child.” 

“So you  _ don’t  _ have a kid?” Steve asked. “Then who is he?” 

Tony shrugged his shoulders lightly. “I guess you will know if he decides to tell you his name. But like I said, he’s a little shy.” He looked back at the kid, sighing deeply.  “Did they wake you up?” 

The kid nodded his head, yawning. 

“I thought I said to be quiet,” Tony practically snapped at the two.

“I woke up before you told them to be quiet, Mr. Stark,” the kid whispered. “Wasn’t their fault.” 

Tony walked over to the kid, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Either way, they were still noisy enough to wake you up, so it is their fault.”

“We didn’t know there was a kid here, Tony!” Steve said.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Why does this kid get talked to like that, but Steve and I get yelled at and are told everything we do is wrong?”

“Probably because it is,” Tony chided. 

A small smile appeared on the kid’s lips. “I was just making sure there weren’t invaders in the compound,” he said quietly. 

“Kid, no one is getting into this compound unless I want them to. You’re safe here,” Tony stressed. “And if there are ever invaders in here, I expect you to get the hell out. Not go investigate. Understood?” 

The kid mumbled something along the lines of yes, but it was clear he wasn’t actually going to listen in the event that happened. 

“Wait just a second,” Steve said, standing up from the couch. “None of this explains why he was  _ attached  _ to the ceiling.” 

“Are you really that surprised?” Tony asked, giving Steve a once over. “You’re literally a genetically modified super soldier. Stronger, faster,  _ ancient.  _ And a little kid sticking to a ceiling surprises you?” 

“I’m not a little kid,” the kid grumbled. 

“Sure you’re not, squirt,” Tony answered without looking at him.

“And don’t call me squirt!”

Steve stared wide-eyed at their exchange. “Yes, it does surprise me,” he answered finally. 

“Well, I guess you can know the answer to that if the kid decides to tell you,” Tony replied. “But, I think it’s time the kid in question goes back to bed, don’t you think?” He turned away from Steve, arching one brow at the boy. 

The kid pursed his lips. “There are two Avengers in the living room and you want me to go back to bed?” the kid asked. 

“Two? Am I just irrelevant to you?” Tony asked. “There are  _ three  _ Avengers in this room, I’ll have you know.” 

The kid waved him off. “Yeah, but I’m used to you, so you don’t count.” 

Tony scoffed. “Go back to bed, kid. It’s too early for you to be awake.” 

“Now you’re sending me to bed because you’re upset. This is unreal!” the kid groaned. 

Natasha stood still, not quite believing what she was seeing. Tony was really arguing with . . . some  _ kid  _ who lived in the compound? On his private floor, too? 

“Are you seriously arguing with me right now?” Tony asked. 

“Only because you’re doing it back,” the kid retorted.

“Okay, okay,” Natasha said, finally shaking out of her stupor. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but we have some classified SHIELD intel to go over, so if we could get back to that, that would be great.” 

The kid huffed. “Fine. You can go back to your boring mission stuff. Whatever.” 

Tony raised both brows. “You’re going back to bed?” 

“Only so you’ll leave me alone.” 

Steve chuckled from his spot by the couch. “Are you sure he’s not yours, Tony? This kid’s a riot.” 

“If he was mine, he would have been punished by now.” 

“Sure I would,” the kid replied.

“You’re walking on very thin ice,” Tony said. He wasn’t  _ actually  _ mad at the kid, but he really did want him to go back to bed. He hardly slept as it was, and even though it was a weekend and he didn’t have school the next day, he still wanted the kid to get the average amount of a sleep a teenager should have. 

“Mmm,” the kid hummed.

“Really, kid, you need adequate sleep,” Steve chimed in. “It’s healthy for a growing body like yours.” 

The kid looked at him questionably. “If you say so. And it’s Peter. Not kid.” 

“Peter,” Steve repeated. “Nice to officially meet you, then.”

“So you’ll listen to Star Spangled over there but not me?” Tony asked. 

“I listen to you  _ sometimes,”  _ Peter explained. 

“When?” Tony asked. “Give me three instances where you actually listened to a word I said.” 

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line. “You can’t put me on the spot like that, it’s not fair.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Tony said with a snort. “Go to bed. And maybe dream about a world where you listen to me. You might find that it would save you a lot of trouble if you did.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “It would save  _ you  _ a lot of trouble if I did, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re going to kill me one day, kid. I mean it.” 

Peter smiled. “Hopefully that won’t be for a long time.” He let out another yawn and waved to Natasha and Steve. “I’m going back to bed. Have fun with your boring work.” 

Tony looked at him skeptically. “I know you’re lying through your teeth when you say this is boring, so let me tell you this once: Friday will let me know when you’re in your room and she will also let me know if you leave it. No spying, and no listening in, got it?”

Peter frowned. “Fine.”

“That’s what I thought.” Tony watched Peter trudge back down the hall to his room.

“What was that about?” Natasha asked.

“The kid has a knack for finding trouble. And this is trouble. He tells you two it’s boring work, but really he thinks it’s the most exciting thing in the world. He wouldn’t have gone back to his room unless I threatened him with Friday. He would have eavesdropped.”

Steve and Natasha shared a look, but it was Steve who said, “You seem to know Peter very well.” 

“Well, I’ve known him for a while.” Tony went back over to the love seat and sat down, picking his coffee back up. 

“How long is ‘a while?’” Steve prodded.

Tony looked at him. “He isn’t my kid, Steve.” 

“Even though you act like his father?” Natasha asked, a smirk on her face. 

Tony didn’t reply. He didn’t have one. “Tell me more about this SHIELD intel.” 

Natasha shook her head, but let the topic of the kid go. It was clear Tony wasn’t going to share any details, so there was no sense in trying to get it out of him. Not when she could research Peter herself. 

Even if Peter wasn’t his kid, it was clear that Tony wouldn’t mind it even if he was. Because Natasha had never seen someone be able to back talk Stark and not get yelled at for it. 

 


	2. Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets hurt on patrol and Tony is there to fix him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

There had been plenty of times Peter got hurt on a patrol. Like the time he face planted onto the roof of the building. Or the time he had been nearly beaten to death by the Vulture. 

Just small stuff like that. 

However, a bullet wound seemed to hurt a  _ lot  _ more than those two things, surprisingly worse than the latter. 

It's not even like he meant to get shot. Hell, he didn't even know guns were involved. Not until he heard one go off, and his bicep felt like it was being blown apart seconds later. 

But of course, much like everything that happens on patrol, this particular incident was sent to none other than Tony Stark, who patched himself in to Peter's suit, with a very angry message. 

“Do you want to tell me what the hell you're doing?” Tony yelled. 

“Helping,” Peter replied, clutching his bicep with his other hand. Blood smeared across his fingers and down the arm of his suit, very clearly standing out from the red that the cloth was already made of. 

“Is that so?” Tony asked mockingly. “Who are you helping by getting shot?”

Peter bit his lower lip, stumbling into the first abandoned alley he could find. “My experience level.” 

A deep sigh sounded on the other end of the line. “That wasn't a very good joke, Parker.” 

“Well, if it helps ease the pain in my arm, then it was good in my book,” Peter said. He leaned against the building and slid down onto the ground. 

“Okay, sure,” Tony said, blowing out a breath. “Can you at least tell me if the bullet had an exit point or if it just grazed you?” 

Peter looked down at his arm, immediately regretting his decision. “It definitely didn't graze it.” 

“Did the bullet come out of your arm or is it still in there?” Tony asked. “Because if it's still in there, you're going to have to dig it out before your healing factor heals over it. And I don't think you want to have to rip your arm open again once its healed to get it out.” 

That sounded exactly like something Peter didn't want to do. He sucked in a harsh breath before saying, “It hurts, Mr. Stark.” 

“I know, kid. I can get my suit and come get you, but it won't be for at least another ten minutes.” Truthfully, he wanted to go over there and get the bullet out himself. But he didn't want to seem overbearing. He knew the kid hated it when his AI notified him of emergencies, but it was necessary until he could handle himself and  _ know  _ when to call for help. 

“How do I get it out?” Peter asked.

“I take it you don't have tweezers on you?” Tony asked. 

Peter glowered. “Let me just check in my purse,” he snapped. 

“There is no need to get an attitude with me,” Tony said. 

Peter groaned. “Sorry. It just . . . It hurts and I want it out,” he whined. 

“I understand. Do you want me to come help or do you want to do it?” He’s been learning (slowly) to give Peter a choice when it comes to a lot of things. After all, telling the kid what to do usually never works out, as he does what he wants anyway. 

What  _ did  _ Peter want? On one hand, he didn't want to bother Tony and have him come all the way over here to dig out a bullet from his arm, but on the other hand, if he waited too long, the wound could close with it still inside. And he really did  _ not  _ want to have to rip open his flesh again just to get it out. 

“Talk to me, kid,” Tony said when Peter was quiet for too long. “Tell me what you want.” 

With a baited breath, Peter said, “Help.” 

“I'll be there in ten,” Tony said, disconnecting the line. 

Peter sat on the ground, still clutching his arm. Most of the blood had stopped flowing, but now that meant the wound was clotting and soon enough - healing. He let out a small whimper. Why couldn't he just man up and pull the bullet out himself? He is  _ Spider-Man.  _ He swings from buildings and stops crimes all the time. Not to mention this isn't the first time he's gotten hurt. 

_ But it is the first time you've gotten shot,  _ a voice said in the back of his mind. This was a lot different than falling from large heights or getting punched in the face. 

It felt like eternity until Tony got there, and by the time he had, most of the wound had closed up. 

Tony landed on the ground with a loud clank of metal, the front of his Iron Man suit opening for him to walk out. He took in the sight of the kid on the ground, sucking in a breath. “You look rough, kid.” 

Peter frowned. “You can’t even see me!” 

“I can see enough,” Tony replied. 

“You see the Spider-Man suit and the torn sleeve covered in blood. You don't see  _ me,”  _ Peter explained. 

Tony raised a brow. “One doesn't exist without the other. So, yeah, I see you. I always do.” Whereas the rest of the world saw Spider-Man, Tony would always see Peter Parker - a fifteen year old from Queens that turned his life upside down. 

Peter didn't know what to say to that. So instead, he said, “Please just help me.” 

Tony crouched down so he was level with Peter, and reached out for the hand that covered his arm. “You're going to have to take your hand off that for me to see it.” 

Slowly, Peter took his hand off the wound, wincing slightly at the loss of pressure. He didn't dare look down at it, opting to glance down the entranceway of the alley they were sitting in. 

Tony noticed the way Peter's eyes found someplace else to be, though he didn't comment on it. He looked at the wound himself, clicking his tongue when he saw the skin had mostly stitched itself back together - with the bullet still inside. 

“Well?” Peter asked. 

“Bad news, kiddo. We are going to have to reopen the wound,” Tony informed. 

A small whimper escaped Peter's lips. “How bad will it hurt?” 

Tony shrugged. “Guess it depends on your pain tolerance. Which, from the looks of it, is not a lot.” 

Peter shot Tony a look. “I can't help it!” 

“Hey, calm down, I wasn't trying to be mean. This shit hurts. Trust me, I know what it's like to be hurt from weapons. This is the first time you've gotten shot, yeah?” Tony asked, pulling his hand away from Peter's arm. 

Peter's eyes met Tony's. “You're insinuating I'm going to be shot again.” 

Tony couldn't help the chuckle that came out. “If I have anything to do with it, you won't.” He silently cursed himself for not making the kid’s suit bulletproof. His own Iron Man suit could take a shit ton of bullets before even getting damaged. Why didn't he think to put the same tech on the Spider-Man suit?

_ Probably because his suit is spandex and yours is metals,  _ he thought. 

Well, there was another thing on his list of changes to the Spider-Man suit. 

“Do you want to do this here or back at the compound?” Tony asked Peter. 

“Mr. Stark, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think I can make it back to the compound without bursting into tears. This fucking  _ hurts,”  _ he practically cried. 

Tony knit his brows. “You're too young to be using that kind of language.” 

Peter grumbled something unintelligible. 

“I was going to carry you back to the compound with the suit,” Tony told him. “I didn't expect you to get there yourself.” 

“Awe, that's so embarrassing! Ugh!” he complained. 

“You're not really giving me many options here, kid. And really this is wasting time. I'm not sure how quickly your blood regenerates and you've already lost quite a bit. Plus, we have to reopen the entry point which means you're going to lose more. And I really don't want to do this in some dingy alley that's probably crawling with disease.” 

As much as Peter hated to admit it, Tony was probably right. However . . . “You mean to tell me you don't have a pair of tweezers on you?” 

“Alright wise ass, that's enough.”

Peter couldn't help but snicker. “Fine. You can carry me to the compound. But don't let anyone see.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you're reputation is  _ so _ important.” 

“It is to the city of Queens,” Peter said.  

“But not to me?” Tony asked. 

Peter shrugged, wincing at the pain that fired through his arm. “You're the first to know the second I get a bruise. It's hard to keep a good reputation when you can't even lie about it.” 

Tony shook his head. “I also don't care about your reputation.” He stood up, getting ready to enter the Iron Man suit once again. “And it's clear you don't care about mine. Besides that, as long as we know the truths about each other, who gives a damn about the rest of the world? They'll thank us at the end of the day, anyway.” He let the Iron Man suit encase his body. Putting out one hand, he helped Peter stand with his good arm.

Peter tried to ignore the pain in his arm as he stood, but when he stumbled on shaky legs, it only intensified. “I think I might pass out.” 

“You're okay. You'll make it. I believe in you,” Tony said. He didn't really want the kid to pass out. That would only worry him more. 

“I don’t think so,” Peter mumbled, seeing black dots in the corner of his eyes. 

“We need to have a serious talk about your self confidence later,” Tony said, slipping his arms under Peter's. As soon as he did that, the kid fell limp, and Friday informed Tony that he had, in fact, passed out. 

Wasting no time, he boosted off the ground and into the air, soaring back towards the compound. There weren't any medical personnel in the building, but Tony thought he could fix Peter up himself. He had done it many times on his own and ended up just fine. 

Surely Peter would too, right? 

~*~ 

Back at the compound, Tony had taken Peter to the Medbay, and removed the Spider-Man mask from Peter. His face looked paler than it should, and Tony knew he was right when he told the kid he had been looking rough. He pressed the spider symbol in the middle of his suit, causing the whole thing to loosen so he could peel it off. 

The fabric on his torn up arm got caught on some of the dries blood, causing Tony's stomach to churn. He knew gunshots weren't pleasant, but he didn't expect it to look this bad underneath, considering the kid’s healing factor.

“Friday, tell me what to do,” Tony said. “What tool should I use to reopen the wound?” God, maybe he  _ should  _ have called someone medically trained to do this. 

“I would suggest a small scalpel of some kind, boss. And cut around the bullet - not on.”

Tony scoffed. “How am I supposed to know how it's positioned?” 

“An X-ray might show,” Friday answered. 

“Does it look like I have time to X-ray him?” It was a rhetorical question, but Friday answered anyway.

“According to scans I did upon your arrival, Mr. Parker has about thirty minutes before blood loss will be significant.” 

Tony grumbled. He dug around the medical equipment on the tray table and found a small scalpel. He really hoped Peter didn't mind this, considering Tony only knew what he was doing based off what he has seen before. 

Biting his lower lip, Tony cut into Peter's arm, watching the fresh, red blood ooze out and trickle down his arm. The sight of blood never made him queasy, but when it came to the kid, he felt sick. Especially knowing he was the one inflicting the pain. 

“Be careful, Boss, you don't want to touch the bullet and move it,” Friday informed. 

“No shit,” Tony breathed shakily. When he cut deep enough, he lifted the flap of Peter's skin, ready to reach in for the bullet. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from behind him, and carefully brought them forward, placing the tip in the open gash on Peter's arm.

The squelching sound made bile rise in Tony's throat, but he swallowed it back down. He couldn't afford to be sick right now. Not when he was basically operating on a teenager. 

He felt the tweezers pinch around the bullet, and he slowly pulled it from Peter's arm, setting it on the tray table next to him. He breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Should I stitch him up or let his healing factor do the work?” Tony asked Friday. 

“Stitches would speed up the healing process and prevent more blood from exiting his body,” Friday replied. 

Tony had forgotten how much blood the kid lost. “Should I give him more blood?” He really hoped he didn't have to do a blood transfusion of any kind. He didn't even  _ know  _ Peter's blood type. 

“He should be fine without one. Plenty of bed rest and some sleep will do him good.” 

Thank God. He walked over to the sink and grabbed a rag, soaking it in lukewarm water. He cleaned up the blood that had spilled down Peter's arm, and he cleaned around the wound before grabbing a needle and thread to stitch up the wound. 

He had only ever done stitches once or twice, and he really didn't want to try it on the kid, but he didn't want to wait for his healing factor to work. It seemed to be working slower now that he was so weak. 

Very carefully, he stitched up the wound on Peter's arm, cutting off the excess thread when he was done. 

“Good job, Boss,” Friday congratulated. 

Tony let out a sigh, plopping down in the stool next to the medical bed. Blood covered his hands, but he wanted to take a second to relax and calm his heart before he went to wash it off. 

He looked over at the kid who looked pale and sweaty. Tony hoped he would regain some color to his face once he regenerated more blood. 

Pushing off the stool, he went over to the sink and scrubbed his hands roughly, erasing and trace of blood on his hands and fingers. He made a mental note to wear gloves next time. However, he had been panicking too bad at the idea of the bullet being stuck in there and Peter passing out, that he didn't think everything through properly. Which is really unlike him. 

When he shut off the sink water and dried his hands, Tony turned around and saw a groggy looking Peter staring at him. His eyes were droopy.

“th’anks Misser S’ark,” Peter slurred. 

Tony smiled at the kid. “No problem, kiddo.” He stood next to the bed, pushing the hair away from Peter's forehead. “You need a haircut.” 

“The’re’s . . . No time,” Peter sighed. “I gotta . . . Save the world.” 

“The whole world, huh?” Tony asked. “I thought we agreed to Queens.” 

“I ‘member  _ you  _ did.  _ I  _ jus’ said sure.” 

Tony shook his head. “You need to sleep. You lost more blood than I imaged you would from that bullet wound.”

Peter looked down at his bad arm. Some of his skin was still stained red, but it was nothing a long shower couldn't fix. “You stitched me up?” 

“Someone had to put you back together. I hoped you wouldn't mind,” Tony said. 

Peter shook his head. “Nah . . . I trus’ you.” His eyes slipped closed and he let out a heavy breath. “I jus’ wanna sleep now.” 

“In here?” Tony asked incredulously. “You have a room here, you know.” 

“Mmm,” Peter hummed. 

Tony rolled his eyes. He didn't want the kid to have to sleep on a metal table that crinkled with the paper on top of it, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to carry him across the compound to the bedroom he had here for him. So instead, he turned down the lights and grabbed a light blanket to throw over him. “Suit yourself.” 

“My suit is broken,” Peter mumbled. “I can’t  _ suit myself.”  _

A laugh ripped through Tony's throat. “Sleep, kid. I'll fix your suit.” He peeled the rest of the suit of Peter's body. “Hell, I'll do a lot more than fix it.” There was no better time than the present to work on a whole new one for the kid. Making it bullet proof and all that. “Come find me when you wake. We need to have a talk.”

“‘bout what?” Peter asked. 

“A lot, kid. A lot.” 


	3. Tony Gets Hurt Somehow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Tony get hurt and Peter is worried, but somehow still convinces Tony to get medical attention, all while listening to what he didn't know he needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That summary is shit but it'll make sense later! When you read this whole one shot.

There was something unsettling about being in the compound alone. 

Well, there were employees here, sure, but they were all on the lower levels, doing their own thing, while Peter was three floors up in one of Tony’s private labs. Without Tony. 

He had to go out, apparently. But he told Peter to come by after school so he could show him something. 

“It's about Spider-Man,” Tony had said. 

That's all Peter needed to hear. 

The day dragged slowly after Tony told him that earlier in the morning, and when three o'clock finally rolled around, he was out of the school building quicker than the days following when Tony gave him the Spider-Man suit.

But upon his arrival to the Avenger’s Compound, Friday had informed Peter that Tony Stark was currently out at the moment. 

“Well where did he go?” Peter asked.

“He had business to take care of. But he wanted me to inform you that you were allowed to hang around here and gave you access to the third floor - including the lab.” 

Tony had never let Peter in the lab on his own before. Not that Peter usually hung out here without Tony, but it was one of those “if I'm not in here, then you're not allowed to be either” kind of things.

“Oh. Alright.” Peter tried not to sound too excited about it. 

“Boss said if you break anything, you're not allowed on compound grounds ever again,” Friday said. 

Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, I'm sure.” 

“Boss’s words are very serious, Peter,” Friday stressed. 

“For some,” Peter replied. Tony hadn't been too hard on him in a long time. After the Vulture incident and the ferry, Peter had been able to prove himself in other ways and not jump headfirst into just any action he could find. Slowly he earned Tony's respect and it had . . . Turned into something different. A good different, in Peter’s mind. 

Peter made his way to the elevator and went to floor three, opting to go straight to the lab. He had no idea what he was going to do in there, but he was sure he could find something to tinker with. Maybe a new web fluid formula. Peter often got tired of running out so quickly. 

_ Or maybe you just patrol too much, _ he thought.

_ Nah. _

In the lab, he threw his backpack over to the side and walked around, looking to see what Tony had been working on. It seemed to be a few things for the Iron Man suit, along with other tech that Peter wasn't sure where it belonged. 

He grabbed some beakers and mixers, getting to work on making more web fluid, when a loud commotion from down the hall interrupted him. Which was odd, considering Tony was out and no one else was allowed on this floor without his clearance. 

Peter quickly left the lab and looked down the hall, spotting someone he didn't recognize. He was tall and thin, wearing some kind of silver pack on his back and a pair of goggles. 

The man turned around like he knew he was being watched, and made eye contact with Peter. “Who the hell are you?” 

Peter didn't reply, instead looking past the man and at the crowd of people who surrounded . . . A gurney?

“He needs  _ real  _ medical help,” someone snapped. 

“He was pretty adamant he  _ not  _ go to a hospital,” someone else said in reply. 

“Stop talking about me like I'm dead!” a man snapped.

Peter recognized that voice anywhere. “Mr. Stark?” He walked briskly down the hall, a hand pushing him back. Peter glared up at the man - something he never did.

“Until you tell me who you are, stay back,” he said deeply. 

“Wilson!” Tony snapped. “One, don’t touch that kid. Two, shit.” 

Peter looked at him quizzically. “Are you okay,  Mr. Stark? What happened?” 

“The ‘shit’ is for shit, I forgot you were here,” Tony explained. He groaned when someone pressed a hand on his leg. 

Peter stared at Tony, unable to say anything. He had looked rougher before, but seeing this in person . . . 

Tony noticed the distressed look on Peter's face. “Kid,” Tony said, trying to keep his voice level, despite being in pain. “I'm okay.” 

“It doesn't look like it!” Peter said, voice cracking. “What happened?”

“Nothing big. Just a little bang up from a car accident,” Tony informed. He hissed when someone moved his leg. “If you hurt my leg one more time by prodding at it, you'll never have another leg to prod at again, do you hear me?” 

The guy named Wilson rolled his eyes. “Do you have to be so dramatic all the time?” 

Tony whipped his head over to him. “I'd like to see you here, Wilson. Tell me how chill you would be.” 

“I've been injured plenty of times before, Stark. A lot worse than that.” 

“And I haven't?” Tony fired back. 

“Okay,” Peter said quietly, but loud enough to make everyone else grow silent. “You need a hospital.” 

Tony shook his head. “No, I don't. I'm fine, kid. Just some scrapes and a twisted ankle. It will heal in a few days max.” 

Peter frowned. For some reason, he didn't believe Tony. “Then let them treat you.” He pointed at the people surrounding the gurney. They were usually ones that worked in the medbay anytime a mission was called in. 

Tony sighed. “Look, I don't want-" 

“And I didn't want someone unqualified to dig a bullet out of my arm and stitch me up without exactly knowing how, either, but we all don't get what we want,” Peter said. 

Tony scowled. “I couldn't exactly take you to a hospital with that healing factor of yours, now could I?”

“That's not the point,” Peter chastised. 

“Healing factor?” Wilson said. “Who the hell is this kid, Tony?” 

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “Unimportant to you,” he answered. 

The frown on Peter's face deepened. “Mr. Stark . . .”

Hanging his head, Tony sighed in defeat. “Will you sleep better tonight if I get treated by medical professionals?” 

Peter nodded his head. 

“Fine. Then take me to the Medbay,” Tony instructed. “And  _ don’t  _ touch my leg.” 

A small weight had been lifted off Peter's shoulders. Tony was getting help. He would be okay. 

“And, kid,” Tony called out. “Don’t break anything in my lab. You'll be kicked out forever if you do.” 

Peter smiled, and Tony felt some relief knowing the kid wasn't so upset and frowning anymore. 

“I'll be there shortly, okay?  _ After  _ I go to the Medbay.” He made a noise of disgust.

“Childish, too,” Wilson muttered. 

“You're free to go,  _ Falcon,”  _ Tony said, glancing quickly over at Peter. 

_ This _ was  _ Falcon?!  _

“Thanks for bringing me right to the kid. That's exactly what I didn't want,” Tony added.

“You said no hospitals!” Falcon practically exploded. “This was the only other choice! And I didn't even know there was a  _ kid  _ here. A kid, Tony! Who is he? Yours?”

Tony arched a brow. “Do I look like I have a child?” 

“Knowing you, there's no telling,” Falcon answered. 

“If I had a child, don’t you think you would have known about it by now?” Tony prompted.

“Everyone has their secrets, Stark. Especially you. If you don't want anyone to know about something, they won't.” 

He had Tony there. Still, he was wrong. “I guess if the kid wants to tell you who he is, then you can know.”

Peter realized that was the same thing he told Natasha and Steve the other night. He was giving Peter the choice to tell people who or what he is. 

Falcon looked over at Peter expectantly, which only agitated him further. So he shrugged and turned on his heel, heading back to the lab.

Tony was roaring with laughter in the distance. “Keep him in suspense, kid! He will really like that!”

“Stark!” Falcon hollered. 

Peter went back into the lab, letting the door close behind him. With his enhanced hearing, he could still hear the two bickering as they went down the hall to the Medbay. 

“Seriously, Stark,” Falcon said. “Who is he?”

“He will tell you when he's ready,” Tony answered simply. “Clearly he’s not ready.” 

“So I'll see him again?” Falcon asked. “He hang out here a lot?”

“Listen, Wilson,” Tony said seriously. “Don’t push me on this. And if there is ever an instance where you see him again and it's  _ not  _ in this compound and the scenario is completely different, do not think for one second I won't do everything in my power and motives to make sure he's safe. You got that? And don't ask me what scenarios I'm referring to,” Tony added. Sam Wilson didn't need to know Peter was Spider-Man. Should an incident arise where he is on the battlefield and sees it, now he will know. Or at least, Tony would hope he would know.

“And what about you, man? Telling the kid it was a minor car accident?” 

Tony lied to him? Why would he do that? 

“It  _ was  _ a car accident,” Tony said. 

“Someone targeted you on purpose, Stark. They wanted to probably kill you.” 

Peter's heart hammered hard in his chest. He knew Tony was a common target due to being Iron Man and an Avenger, but he didn't think daily life out and about could bring such . . . Lethal encounters. Is this why Tony gave Peter a choice in telling others who he is? 

“A lot of people want to kill me, Wilson,” Tony said. “But I don't want the kid afraid to hang around me in case he thinks he might die or some shit. Which  _ won't  _ happen. Because I won't let it.” 

It was quiet for a moment before, “I don’t know who he is, but I can tell you care about him. So, fine. I'll back off. Just . . . Go get fixed and meet him in the lab. He's waiting and worried. I thought the kid was going to kill me when I pushed him back.” 

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, he’s very . . . I don't know what word I want to say. Since he's listening.” 

Peter felt the red rush to his cheeks. Tony  _ always  _ knew. 

“He can’t hear us from here, Tony. We are quite far from the lab,” Sam said. 

“You'd be surprised at the trouble that kid finds,” Tony told him.

“Are you sure he's not yours then?” Sam asked again. 

“I'm sure,” Tony confirmed.  _ “But,  _ it wouldn't be so bad if he was. He's a good kid. It just took me some time to realize it.” 

Sam snorted. “Yeah, he’s the only one you listen to, apparently. Since he got you to go to the Medbay.”

“He already has issues sleeping at night. I don't want to give him another,” Tony said. 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it,” Sam said with an eyeroll. 

Peter smiled, despite himself. There was a time he thought Tony only cared for what he was rather than who, but this conversation seems to disprove that doubt once more. 

“Leave me be,” Tony said. “I have an ankle that needs wrapping.” 

“Sure. See you later, Stark,” Sam said. 

“Uh, let's hope maybe not.” Any day Tony had to deal with Avengers or knock off Avengers, tended to be not good ones. Typically. 

Sam didn't say anything else, making his way out of the compound to let Tony be.

Peter leaned against the wall in the lab, still feeling the heat on his cheeks. He never thought Tony would have thought about him like that. It was nice to know he could count on someone other than Aunt May in his life. 

Because in a world like this, it didn't hurt to have people in your corner. People you can trust with your life. 

And to just be your friend when needed.


	4. Aliens and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter runs into trouble on his way home from school and calls Tony for help. He brings along backup, and things get out of hand, causing Peter's identity to be revealed to two of the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for you, nailpolishpoison! :)
> 
> \- feel free to leave suggestions for oneshots in the comments. I might not actually do them all, but I will see them and consider them! 
> 
> Also, if there are typos in these, sorry. I usually don't read them over again for a proofread. I don't ever feel like it ;(

There was a time when Peter Parker would search for crime that needed to be stopped. It was the same time when he would jump headfirst into the action, only asking questions later, rather than sooner. 

This time, however, he was ashamed to admit that he was  _ nervous  _ to dive headfirst into . . . Whatever  _ this  _ was.

About ten minutes into Peter’s walk home from school, people closer to downtown began screaming and running from a source unknown to Peter. Immediately, he was on high alert, his Spider Sense creeping up the back of his neck. 

When he rounded the corner to the bank at the end of the street, he saw what all the commotion was about. 

Peter wasn’t even sure what  _ it  _ was. It looked like a robot/alien hybrid, and it towered over most buildings, having to be at least seventy feet tall. With every step it took, its foot crushed cars and light posts, sending people running. 

“Oh man,” Peter breathed. He ran the opposite of the alien thing and down an alley. Slinging his backpack off his shoulders, he dug out his Spider-Man suit, suiting up quicker than usual. He wasn’t sure where to even begin once he got out there. That thing was far too big for him to handle on his own, and it’s not like -

Wait.

“Karen!” Peter said in a rush.

“How can I assist you today, Peter?” Karen, the AI in his suit, responded.

“I need you to call Mr. Stark! I need help.” 

Like the time mentioned before, that was also when Peter never asked for help. Even if he needed it. But over these past few months, he and Tony came to an agreement. Tony would lay off tracking Peter’s every move,  _ if  _ and  _ only if,  _ Peter called him when he needed help. The last thing Peter wanted to do what to have Mr. Stark catch wind of Spider-Man staving off some alien beast  _ alone  _ in the city. 

He would be pissed.

Moments later, Tony Stark was patched through to Peter’s suit. “What’s up, kid?” 

“There’s an alien! No - wait - a robot in the city. It’s huge and stomping on things and I swear it’s not Hulk. But I don’t know what to - how to stop it,” Peter said in a rush. 

“First, take a deep breath, panicking won’t do you any favors. Second, I’ll be there in a few with some backup, alright? Do not engage yet,” Tony instructed. “Not until we know what it’s capable of.” 

Peter peeked around the corner of the alley at the monster. It was slowly making its way towards him, screeching loudly. The sound caused Peter’s eardrums to vibrate, which only made his hearing worse. He slammed his hand over his ears, trying to dull the noise. “It’s loud!” Peter yelled.

“Yeah, and so are you,” Tony replied. “Jesus, kid, you almost made  _ me  _ go deaf.” 

“Sorry!” Peter shouted, albeit quieter this time. He was still speaking quite loud, though he was unaware of that fact. 

 

“Hang tight,” Tony said. “I’m on my way.” He kept the comm communications up, and patched Peter’s suit into the backup he was bringing along with him. He didn’t tell the kid who else would be able to hear him, just so he wouldn’t lose focus yet. Because knowing Peter, if Tony told him a few of the Avengers (that didn’t include him) were tagging along, he would be awestruck that he was fighting alongside them. 

Of course, Peter had met Steve and Natasha, but he only met them formally as Peter Parker. Or just Peter. He never told them a last name. And neither of the two knew who Spider-Man was all that time ago in Germany - just that he was young and fighting alongside Tony. After that, neither of them had interacted with Spider-Man.

Not until now, anyway. 

Peter pressed himself against the bricks of the building he was currently standing next to. His ears still rung from the alien thing’s screech, but at least he could still hear things going on in the city. 

A few minutes went by, and just as Peter was about to disregard Tony’s orders and go after the monster himself, he saw a familiar glint of a red and blue shield fly through the air and hit the monster directly in the face. 

Peter swung into action, getting a high vantage point on one of the buildings. As soon as his feet hit the rooftop, Iron Man landed directly next to him, the two of them surveying the monster in the streets. 

“I didn’t know the Avengers were backup!” Peter exclaimed. “This is awesome!” 

“I’m glad you think they’re awesome and I’m not,” Tony said, shaking his head.

Peter rolled his eyes behind his mask. “I said the Avengers,” he repeated. “One would assume you would be included in that group.” 

“Can we talk about this later?” Captain America’s voice chimed in through the comms. “There’s some otherworldly creature destroying this city.” 

“Good eyes, Cap,” Tony said sarcastically. 

Peter shoved Iron Man’s arm, which didn’t budge at all. “Don’t be rude.”

Tony looked down where Peter tried to shove him. “Did you just push me?” 

“Pfft, no,” Peter said, shaking his head.

“Yes, you did,” Tony said accusingly. “You just hit Tony Stark.”

“What I  _ hit  _ was Iron Man,” Peter said matter-of-fact.

“Guys!” Natasha shouted through the comms. “Now is not the time!”

Right she was. Peter looked back at the monster thing, which was currently occupied trying to swat at Captain America.

“What even is this thing?” Cap asked. “And how do we stop it?” He jumped onto the roof of a nearby car, jumping from vehicle to vehicle, luring the monster to him.

“According to my suit scans,” Tony began, taking off from the rooftop of the building, “it came from some portal near the bridge.” He fired beams at the monster, seeing if that would damage it at all. All it seemed to do was roar louder than before and get really pissed off.

Peter winced at the sound of the creature. He was used to his senses being dialed to eleven, especially during fights like this, but the monster’s roars really pierced his ears, almost to the point where he couldn’t hear anything but ringing. He could barely hear the Avengers talking through the comms.

“Is the portal still open?” Natasha asked. “Can we send it back through?”

“No, the portal appears to be closed,” Tony answered.

“So what do we do?” Peter asked. “We can’t let it rampage through the city. It will destroy everything!” His home was here.  _ Aunt May  _ was here. He had to get rid of this thing before it got near his apartment. 

“Relax, Spider-Man,” Tony said, changing his usual nickname from ‘kid.’ “Let’s luer it to the water and see if this thing can swim.” Trying to kill it in the middle of the city seemed like a big no, as it would probably fall and crush buildings and vehicles, ultimately killing more people - which is something no one wants. 

Peter shot his webs across the street, swinging to the building on the other side. He was about to ask what he should do to help when Cap’s shield flew right past his head, barely missing him. “What the hell?” Peter asked.

“Sorry!” Cap shouted. “Bad aim.”

“Do that again, Rogers, and you will never see that shield again,” Tony seethed.

Peter looked down at Cap, who was looking back at him curiously. It was almost like . . . he was studying him.

“I really wasn’t aiming for you,” Cap said. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” Peter replied. “No hard feelings.” 

“You forgive and forget too easily,” Tony said. 

Peter could practically see the eye roll Tony gave. “You can’t move on until you do,” Peter sang, swinging to another building. 

Tony and Natasha were doing most of the work, luering the monster to the water nearby. It screeched and swatted at Tony each time he flew around its head, but the monster was so big, it was too slow to actually hit him.

“Alright, Spider-Man,” Tony said through the comm. “When we get to the waters, I’m going to have you wrap its legs together with your webs so it trips and falls into the water, okay? It’s like that one movie you always go on about.” 

Peter didn’t think Tony actually ever listened to his pop culture references. He always seemed annoyed by them. “I got it!” Peter said excitedly. He swung further ahead than everyone else, waiting for the monster to get closer to the water’s edge. When it was finally close enough, he swung into action, staring from the top of its legs and swinging around the beast, tying its legs together.

The creature roared, going to take a swipe at Peter, but missed. It tried to break through the webs around its legs, but thanks to Peter and Tony, they had developed a web solution that was tripled in strength and durability. The only way the monster could get out of it was if it dissolved in a few hours, or if Peter undid it. Neither of which was going to happen.

Peter landed on a nearby dock, watching the creature roar and fall into the water, causing a huge wave to come crashing back towards the city. It did nothing more than drench everything nearby - including Peter.

“Woo!” Peter screamed, shaking his head quickly. “That is  _ freezing!”  _ The New York waters have never been known for being warm. The water froze Peter to the core, which was worse for him, considering his powers. Normal spiders couldn’t thermoregulate, and though Peter wasn’t nearly as bad as that, if it was cold enough, it would take him ages to get warm again. Which is why Tony had installed a heater into Peter’s suit.

Just as he was about to activate it, the monster in the water somehow moved just enough to take out all the wooden pillars on the dock Peter was standing on, sending all of it straight into the water. 

Peter tried to shoot a web and sling up from the dock before he was submerged, but it caught him off guard and there was no time. He was quickly beneath the surface, trying to swim around the wooden scraps and beams. It proved to be rather difficult, as the monster kept trying to break free, causing the currents underwater to switch and move every which way. 

Even though Peter’s suit had just about everything, it  _ didn’t  _ have an oxygen supply. He was swimming in what he thought was up, but was actually sideways, and was quickly running out of air from being unable to take a deep breath before he was pulled under. 

Seconds away from running out, he couldn’t help it when he inhaled a bunch of water, feeling his lungs fill. 

Arms grabbed him roughly and he shot out of the water, practically being thrown on the shore as he choked and sputtered.

Peter tore off his mask, throwing up the water that he had swallowed only moments before. He coughed and hacked - two things he hadn’t done since he was sick with the flu two years ago, pre-spider bite. 

“Let it all out, kid,” Tony said, still in his Iron Man armor.

“Jesus Christ,” Natasha said, standing about fifty feet away from Tony and Peter. “Spider-Man is a  _ kid?”  _

_ Here we go,  _ Peter thought. He tried to argue, but could only manage to suck in lungfuls of air and choke on them. 

“That’s . . . Peter,” Steve chimed in, jogging up to where Natasha stood. “Peter is Spider-Man? That kid in your compound all the time is Spider-Man?” Even as he said it, the words didn’t feel real. 

Tony only stared at them, not even removing his faceplate to look at them with a scowl. It’s why he designed the Iron Man face as he did - to always look like he is scowling and unimpressed. Which he most often was. 

“Tony, that’s . . .” For once, Natasha didn’t know what to say. 

“Outrageous,” Steve supplied.

Tony shrugged. “It’s not like I chose his age.”

“No, but you  _ chose  _ to bring a kid into battle! What the hell is wrong with you?” Steve asked, frowning deeply.

“First off, I didn’t  _ choose  _ to do anything. The kid called  _ me,  _ remember? And secondly, it doesn’t matter what I tell him, he will do whatever the hell he wants anyway, so I might as well give him the right equipment and assistance to at least  _ try  _ to help him stay alive.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Mr. Stark,” he snapped. 

“You, hush,” Tony instructed. “You’re supposed to be catching your breath.” 

“Tony, he’s young,” Natasha said, looking at Peter. 

“Obviously I’m aware,” Tony answered.

“Are you?” she fired back. “I wasn’t aware you knew people under the age of thirty existed.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony asked defensively.

Natasha scoffed. “When was the last time you even interacted with a non-adult? Besides the kid?” She tapped her foot expectantly. 

“Can we talk about this later?” Peter asked, finally able to catch his breath and speak. “Is the alien thing dead?” 

Everyone looked back at the waters, which seemed to have calmed down. So either the monster had drowned like they planned, or it unknowingly escaped. Somehow the latter seemed unlikely. 

Steve jogged over to the water, while Tony helped Peter back up on his feet. He looked him over once, making sure he was really okay, before turning his attention back to the thing in the water. 

“It’s dead,” Steve confirmed. 

“Whatever it was must have only been sent here to cause chaos,” Natasha mused mostly to herself. 

“Unless it was here by accident,” Peter chimed in, causing everyone’s heads to turn.”What?

“What makes you think it was an accident, kid?” Tony asked.

Peter shrugged. “A feeling? I don’t know. And it wasn’t really doing its best to destroy everything. It smashed stuff on the streets, but that’s because it had nowhere else to go. It could have easily taken out buildings with one swipe of its arm.” 

“Maybe it was a distraction,” Natasha said. 

“Then where’s the real threat?” Steve countered. “The city is awfully quiet now that that thing is dead.” 

“I’m telling you: an accident,” Peter repeated. “And we killed it.” He sagged at that. He didn’t like killing things. Aliens or no. It wasn’t right. Who was he to decide what lived and what died? 

Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. How did he even try to begin to explain that this was okay? “It was an alien, kid. It didn’t belong here.”

“No, but we still killed it! What if it had a family or something? We just killed a dad! Or a mom! Or - oh my God, a kid!” Peter began to panic. “Oh man, I killed someone’s family!” 

“What? Peter, no,” Tony said, shaking his head. “That wasn’t someone, it was some _ thing.  _ And we couldn’t get it back to where it came from anyway. We don’t even know  _ where  _ it came from. It was as good as dead. If we didn’t stop it, the government would have. And they probably would have kept it alive enough to experiment on, so really we did it a favor.” 

Even though Tony’s explanation was pretty decent, it still didn’t change the fact that was  _ dead.  _ And Peter was the one who killed it. 

“Hm. Maybe he really  _ isn’t  _ Tony’s kid,” Steve muttered to Natasha. 

“I heard that,” Tony barked.

Steve put up his hands. “I’m only saying. Kid’s got compassion. I like that.” 

Tony scoffed. “And I don’t?” 

“You’re more of a  . . . shoot first ask questions later kind of guy,” Steve explained. 

“And what did the kid just do?” Tony fired back. 

“Hey!” Peter complained. “You’re supposed to make me feel better. Not make me feel like shit for listening to you!” 

Tony looked at him. Peter  _ listened  _ to him? “See, then it’s actually my fault,” Tony said, trying to turn this around. He didn’t want the kid to feel like he had actually commit a murder. Because he didn’t. Not really. 

“It’s my fault for actually listening,” Peter muttered, kicking the ground.

“Why are you beating yourself up?” Natasha asked. “It wasn’t a person, Peter. It was . . . I’m not even sure.” 

Peter shrugged. “I guess I’ve never done something so . . . violent before.” 

And in truth, Peter hadn’t. Sure, he had punched people, webbed them up, stopped them from doing crimes, but they all got what they deserved. If this beast was here by accident and didn’t know what it was doing, it got a fate much worse. 

“I’m glad you have morals, kid, honest,” Tony said. “But you need to actually look at the bigger picture here, okay?”

Peter supposed he was right. Still, he felt odd thinking that he . . .  _ killed  _ something. He didn’t kill. He wasn’t that kind of person. Even when Karen activated Instant Kill Mode, he had her shut it off immediately. He still didn’t know why Tony thought there was a reason for that to be put in the suit. Did he know Peter would never kill on his own?

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “So what do we do with it now?”

“Fill out lots of paperwork and let the government handle the rest like they’re always so adamant to do,” Tony answered. “But that’s for me to worry about. You can go home. Actually, I would like for you to go home. They don’t need to be snooping around about Spider-Man.” 

Though Spider-Man was known amongst the city, he was only ever really stopping small crimes that the police handled. Apparently that was tame enough, considering none of the higher ups had tried to come looking for him. Yet. 

“I have to agree on that one,” Peter said.

Tony placed his hand on his chest. “You agree with me? Peter Parker agrees with me?” he mocked. “I already have heart issues, kid. Don’t send me into cardiac arrest because you actually agree with me for once.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his lips, despite himself. “Whatever.” 

“I can’t believe this. You two witnessed this, right?” Tony asked, looking at Natasha and Steve. 

“We did,” Steve said, smirking. 

Tony whistled. “Wow.” 

“I’m going home,” Peter said, keeping in a laugh. “May is getting Thai tonight.” 

“Sounds good, kid,” Tony said. “Oh, and before you go, I . . . appreciate you actually calling me for help. And not going into this on your own.” There. That was enough praise, right? He had been learning that praising the kid tended to make the him less angsty and more . . . compliant on most things. God, he felt like he was a parent. 

Peter smiled at him. “I figured you could use the exercise. I hear metabolism slows down as you get old,” Peter teased. 

“You’re a little shit,” Tony replied. “I try to compliment you and you call me old. All you teenagers need a lesson in respect.” 

“Respecting our elders?” Peter asked.

Tony frowned. “If you keep it up, you might see me when you go out to dinner with your attractive aunt. I’ll make it a date.” 

Peter’s face twisted into disgust. “Ew, no.” 

“Then go home,” Tony said. “Or else!” 

Steve and Natasha watched their exchange silently, both of them trying to keep in their laughter. The kid was a riot, much like Steve said the other night. And Tony . . . Tony was almost a completely different person. Almost . . . It was almost like Peter brought out the best in him.

Tony turned to the two Avengers, the smile sliding off his face. “I can expect that you two will keep his name and identity a secret?”

Peter looked over Tony’s shoulder at them, his eyes big. He still acted a bit shy around them, even though he was talking just fine as Spider-Man.

Spider-Man had confidence, it seemed.

Peter Parker did not. 

“Of course, Tony,” Natasha said. “We both know how shitty it is since the government knows who we are and what we can do.” Even though she was a trained spy and being involved in the government had its perks, more often than not, it was worse. There was never any privacy. Ever. And you could always be tracked and found. No matter how many fake identities you had, they always knew. 

“I agree,” Steve said. “And you know my . . . qualms with the government.” 

Everyone did. 

“Good,” Tony said, facing back towards the kid. “I trust them well enough, so you can too, okay? They won’t share your secret. Or your family,” he added, just for safe measure. May was all the kid had left. He wouldn’t jeopardize her, either. 

Peter looked back at Natasha and Steve before sagging his shoulders and nodding his head. “Okay.” He trusted Tony. So he could trust them. 

A shiver tore through his body. He was still wet, and suddenly, he just remembered how cold he was. “Karen, heater,” he instructed the AI. Instantly, his skin warmed, though he still had goosebumps along his arms.

“The police will be here any minute, kid. Go home and get warm,” Tony said. “I’ll see you around.” 

Peter nodded and slipped his mask back on, waving goodbye. He used the buildings to swing home, avoiding the eyes of the police force as he went. 

“He’s a good kid,” Steve said to Tony. “Funny, too.”

Tony scoffed. “I think you mean disrespectful.” 

“Sure, Tony. Disrespectful.” Steve rolled his eyes teasingly. 

Tony looked back at where the kid disappeared. Peter  _ was  _ a good kid. And he was far from disrespectful. Hell, he still called him Mr. Stark. Even after all the shit they went through. But Tony didn’t think he would trade it for anything. Even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, the kid had a special place in his heart.  The very thing that a lot of people said Tony didn’t have.


	5. Losing Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds it hard to make time for sleeping, which causes issues as Spider-Man. Especially when a man robs the deli and Peter can't even stop a crime so little as that one from being so tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhhh, this one isn't one of my favorites, but it IS the longest chapter so far. So I hope you guys like it. Even if I don't lol

Sometimes, life was a little too overwhelming for sleep.

It wasn’t that Peter never had the time to go home to his bed and pass out for hours, it was just that he got caught up in doing so many other things, sleep was at the end of the list that seemed never ending. 

So, of course, he couldn’t remember the last time he actually went to sleep in his bed. For longer than three hours. 

If he wasn’t out patrolling, he was catching up on all the schoolwork he had put off due to patrolling. And if it wasn’t homework he was doing, it was stuff for the decathlon team. And if it wasn’t stuff for the decathlon team, it was making time for his friends outside of school. He had a lot to juggle and get done during his days, meaning that sleep didn’t come often. And if it did, it wasn’t for long.

However, this affected him a lot more than he ever thought it would. After all, he had plenty of sleepless nights before becoming Spider-Man, and he seemed just fine then.

Firstly, Peter felt like his head was always on the verge of exploding. 

“What’s up with you, dude?” Ned asked Peter that day after school. “You’ve been quiet all day.” 

Peter shrugged, shoving his books back into his locker. “My head just hurts.” 

Ned’s brows rose to his hairline. “Since when do you ever feel any less than tip top shape?”

It was true. Peter hadn’t felt the slightest bit of ill since the spider bite, and he and Tony Stark had concluded that when his DNA got mutated, it also snuffed out the ability to get sick like the rest of the human race. Things like the common cold and the flu couldn’t affect Peter anymore. However, neither of them were sure about other diseases or illnesses more serious. Tony didn’t seem to think Peter was immune to everything. Because, he said, and Peter quotes, “No one is just that invincible, Parker. Everyone has a weakness.” 

Peter didn’t have the heart to discuss things that could kill him with Mr. Stark. So he left it at that, letting Mr. Stark think Peter  _ was  _ just that invincible. 

“Are you worried?” Ned asked, not letting Peter answer his original question. “I mean, you don’t get sick, man. Ever! What if your powers are wearing off? What if you need to be bit by another spider so they last? Oh my God.” 

Peter let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think that’s the case, Ned. It’s just a headache. Actually, it’s not even really a headache. My head just feels like it’s bigger and heavier than normal.” 

“Aw, man, are you taking on some of Mr. Stark’s ego?” Ned said.

That made Peter laugh loudly. He slammed his locker closed, a smile resting on his face. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He still is unappreciative of my old man jokes.” 

“He  _ is  _ old,” Ned pointed out. “You can’t be upset by the truth.”

“No, but you can be upset when people point it out,” Peter replied. “Besides, I’m sure Mr. Stark is well aware of his . . . ego. He gets told it’s big all the time.” 

Ned scoffed. “Well, yeah, he’s a big, hotshot superhero. I’d let it go to my head, too.” 

At least he’s honest. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” Ned asked. “We can finish the Death Star we started last weekend.”

Had it really already been a week since Peter hung out with Ned? He felt like they just started that Death Star yesterday. If time had flown by this quickly, when was the last time he was at the compound? He couldn’t even remember the last time he talked to Tony, let alone visited him. Not to mention it was slightly unusual for Tony to not contact Peter when he was silent for so long.

There’s another thing added onto the list to do. Visit the compound.

“I can’t today,” Peter said in reply to Ned’s question. “But I can tomorrow? I don’t think I’m doing anything.” Lies. He’s  _ always  _ doing something. It’s why he never sleeps.

“Alright, sure. Just text me and let me know,” Ned said. 

“Will do.” 

The two walked out the front doors of the school and down the steps. Usually at this time, Peter would set off away from everyone else and suit up for his long evening of patrolling. But his head just felt so . . .  _ heavy,  _ he wasn’t sure he  _ could  _ patrol. Concentrating seemed hard, and he knew Mr. Stark would kill him if he got injured over something so stupid. He could see it now.

Injuries came with this job. It was just a fact. However, it would be Peter’s fault if he went out and got hurt because he had a headache that wasn’t caused by the crime he was trying to stop. 

So he did something he never did.

He went home.

And immediately regretted it when he walked through the front door of his apartment and heard his phone ringing from his backpack. 

Tony Stark’s name was lit up on the screen, and Peter could only imagine what he could be calling about.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted when he answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“You tell me,” Tony replied. “You’re at home.”

Peter was confused. “Um, yeah?” 

“Why?” Tony asked.

“Why what?”

“Why are you at home?”

“Because I live here?” What? Was Tony okay?

The other end was silent for a few minutes before Tony said, “Are you okay?” 

This was bizarre. Peter didn’t even know what to think, let alone reply. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’re at home. After school,” Tony stated like it was obvious. “And not on patrol,” he added, deciding Peter still wasn’t understanding.

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, everything finally clicking into place. “Yeah, I’m . . . not patrolling at the moment. But why do you even know that?”

Tony scoffed on the other end. “What don’t I know?”

As true as that was, Peter still felt a little offended. “I thought you were going to lay off the tracking?”

“I did - I am,” Tony explained. “I just got a notification that you weren’t where you usually are. Or where you have been for the past week.”

Ah, so Tony  _ did  _ notice Peter hadn’t been around for a week. “Oh. Yeah. I just . . . don’t feel like patrolling today I guess.”

“That sounds like a lie,” Tony said. “A big one, too. What’s really going on, kid?” 

Peter tossed his backpack in the corner of his room. “Nothing! I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Or any night. “I’m a little tired.” 

“Hmm,” Tony hummed. He didn’t quite believe the kid, but he sounded fine enough for the time being. “I didn’t think Spider-Man got tired.” 

“He doesn’t,” Peter said before adding, “But Peter Parker does.”

“Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?” Tony asked. “That’s weird. Don’t do that, kid.” 

Peter couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat. “Okay, sure.” He plopped down on his bed, listening to the squeaky springs under the mattress. Maybe  _ this  _ is why he doesn’t sleep. His bed sucks. 

“I’ll catch you later, Parker. I have a meeting to attend.” He hung up the phone, leaving Peter to sit in silence in his room. 

Peter was relieved that Tony didn’t ask him anymore questions and left it as it was. But even he could tell Tony didn’t quite believe him. However, Peter must have sounded normal enough to get by, and for now, that was good enough for him.

He stretched out on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He was shocked that it still worked, if he was being quite honest. The screen was shattered to the point where the bottom of it was all black and nonfunctioning, and he was sure that if he still wore glasses, he wouldn’t even be able to see what he was looking at.

But he didn’t usually ever use his phone other than to call Ned. Or Tony, on the rare occasion. He would text May occasionally, letting her know he was fine, but other than that, he had no use for it. So that’s why now, lying on his bed and looking through apps he hadn’t looked at in months . . . It felt  _ strange.  _ Almost foreign.

He’s nearly sixteen and has no interest in a cell phone. 

He thought that maybe he could doze off while looking at it, but promises of sleep never came. His head still felt like it was full of lead, even we he closed his eyes and blocked out all the light filtering through the curtains of his window.

So, yeah. The headaches came first, but the loss of balance came second. And  _ that’s  _ when Peter started growing more concerned.

A few days later after school, he was patrolling. He had finally managed to block out his headache enough to do something other than wonder when he would get some real sleep and not a power nap an hour before school. It still felt heavy, but Peter was more focused on how unbalanced he was lately. 

Something that Spider-Man never was.

He used to be able to walk across tightropes of webbing between buildings, and walk along railings to fire escapes, but there had been far too many times where a wave of dizziness would crash over him and his foot would slip, allowing him to barely be able to fire a web and catch himself before plummeting to the ground.

On one occasion, the fall had nearly been so bad, his heart rate spiked enough to send an alert out to Tony (who, by the way, was  _ not  _ monitoring the kid’s every move, but still had the suit send him certain details each time Peter wore it). An increase in heart rate (over a certain number, mind you) was cause enough to send a notification to Tony’s phone, which then prompted the man to patch himself into Peter’s suit. 

“Kid,” Tony said by a way of greeting. “What are you doing?”

Hearing the man’s voice had startled Peter, but not enough to make him lose his balance (again). “Not much. Patrolling. Same old stuff.” He tried to sound nonchalant, like this was something that occured everyday, but he didn’t think he succeeded too much in that. 

“Same old stuff,” Tony repeated. “So you heart rate usually jumps from average to high in a matter of seconds?” 

Peter groaned loudly. “Quit spying on me. You said you would lay off.”

“I said I would lay off  _ if  _ you contacted me with help and kept me in the loop on things,” Tony corrected. “And I can’t help but feel you’re hiding something from me. So, no, I’m not going to lay off,” he snapped.

“Well, you’re wasting your time trying to figure out what it is, since it’s  _ nothing.”  _ Peter looked down at the street below. Was that guy about to rob the deli? 

“Ha! So you admit you  _ are  _ hiding something. Parker, I swear to God if you’re-”

“I have to go, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, cutting him off. “There’s a robbery.”

“Kid, don’t you dare-”

Peter hung up before Tony could get in another word, and he undoubtedly knew that he was going to get an earful for that later. 

But that was later. The deli was getting robbed  _ now.  _

Peter leaped down from the building, using his web shooters to ease his landing, before bolting into the deli. Inside, a man held the cashier at gunpoint, demanding all the money from the register. 

“So unoriginal,” Peter said, feigning boredom. “This looks like a scene from one of those cheap budget films. I mean, you’re not even wearing a mask.” He thought it was a given to wear a mask when you’re robbing a place. 

The robber aimed the gun at Peter instead. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Peter frowned under his mask. “You mean you haven’t heard of Spider-Man? I’m offended.” 

“Shut the hell up before I shoot you and the clerk.” He looked back at the cashier. “Come on!” he yelled. “I don’t have all day!” 

With a sigh, Peter aimed his web shooters at the gun and fired them, ripping the weapon out of the man’s hand effortlessly. “Maybe it’s  _ you  _ who should shut up before  _ I  _ kill you.” An empty threat. Peter would never hurt anyone like that. Or kill them. He had just gotten over the alien they all killed a few weeks ago, but like Tony said, that didn’t count as a murder. This would. Besides, if he wanted to kill the man, he could just activate instant kill mode. He didn’t need a gun to harm this man.

The man looked at his empty hand in shock, quickly recovering and pulling out a knife instead. He wasted no time lunging for the clerk, but Peter was quicker, using his webs to yank the man away before he could swipe at the cashier. The knife clanged to the floor, and the man fought against Peter’s webs to try and get it back.

During all of this, Peter had managed to drop the gun somewhere, but he forgot all about it as he struggled to keep a hold on the man. “Just . . . give . . . up!” Peter grunted. He could only hope the cops showed up soon. And that the man behind the counter had the common sense to call them. 

Peter was just about to shoot more webs to pin the guy against the wall, when the world spun around him. He lost his grip for just a second, but that’s all it took for the man to be able to grab his knife and lunge at Peter with it. 

There was nothing Peter could do to defend himself, as he saw three versions of one man running at him with a knife, and he couldn’t tell which was real and which was an illusion. It wasn’t until he felt the knife buried deep into leg did the world come back into focus, just as he could look down and see the man dragging the blade along his limb.

Peter screamed out in pain and anger, able to throw the man off of him with ease. The knife still stuck out of his leg, and he gripped the handle firmly and yanked it out, screaming through his teeth. The leg of the suit was shredded from the blade, and Peter cursed to himself. Though he could probably fix it on his own, Tony Stark was the one who made the suit. He could fix it quicker and correctly, whereas Peter might fix it in a decent length of time, but not know if it would still hold together like it should.

Sirens could be heard screeching in the distance, and Peter looked around the store quickly. The man had taken off, which only pissed Peter off more. He had never let anyone get away. It usually only took around three minutes to harass and web up the victim to the wall for the police, but now this guy got away.

Not to mention Peter’s blood was now all over the floor, and if he took off, the cops would undoubtedly take some to investigate the crime scene. 

Peter was panicking. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let anyone take his blood. It wasn’t . . . normal. But it was still his and could be traced back to him. He wasn’t ready for the world to know who he was. And Tony would absolutely kill him for sure if this is how the world found out. 

And May.

_ Shit shit shit shit. _

Peter clutched his leg, his mind woozy. From the blood loss or lack of sleep, he wasn’t sure, but he knew the two of them together would be a shit show. He needed to do something. Fast. 

So he did the last thing he ever wanted to do. 

He called Tony Stark.

“I sincerely hope this is an apology call for hanging up on me earlier,” Tony said. It was clear he was pissed, but that was going to have to wait. 

Peter didn’t feel like he could breathe properly. The police would be here any second and his leg was still oozing out blood onto the floor where he currently sat. “Mr. S-Stark, I need help,” he stuttered. 

_ Damn it.  _ He hadn’t stuttered in ages. 

“What’s going on, kid? I thought it was just a deli robbery.” Even Tony knew it took all of five seconds for Spider-Man to catch and stop the victim. 

“I - I’m - He got away and I - It got out of hand because I’m - I can’t do anything right and just - there’s blood -  _ my blood,  _ and there’s so much and - they’ll take it, Mr. Stark. They’ll take it and know who I am! And May will - we won’t ever be-”

“Breathe, kid,” Tony said calmly. There wasn’t time to dwell on the fact that Peter had said his blood was everywhere - Tony could deal with that later. “They won’t take your blood, okay?”

Peter breathed out a shaky sigh. He could feel the tears pooling in his eyes and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for panicking so badly and letting the criminal get away. He was a failure. “It looks like I got murdered in here, Mr. Stark! It’s a crime scene.” 

Jesus Christ. The kid really wasn’t easing Tony’s growing anxiety over the injury. What had caused the kid to bleed so damn much? And how did the guy even get close enough to do that to him? “I’ll take care of it, okay? Just - Can you get out of there?” 

“Probably. But I-”

“Then leave, kid,” Tony instructed. “Get somewhere else. I’ll take care of the crime scene and then we will deal with you, okay? Unless you think you’re going to check out, then we-”

“No, no checking out,” Peter assured, swallowing thickly. He was bleeding a lot but the wound was already starting to clot. He would be fine.

Tony breathed out a sigh. “Alright, then get out of there. I promise I’ll take care of it, okay? No one but me will get your blood. I’m already on my way.” His suit was firing up as they spoke. 

Peter got up, biting back a scream from how badly his leg hurt. He used a nearby shelf for support, not putting any weight on his leg as he hobbled to the back of the store and out the back door. 

The sirens were a lot louder now, and Peter knew he only had seconds before they were swarming the place. Then he really wouldn’t be able to get out of there. 

Looking up, he fired some webs at the building, launching off the ground. As long as he could get high up, he would be fine, right? 

Wrong.

It was then he heard a helicopter, presumably one for the news. They would definitely see him on top of any buildings, so now he was completely and utterly screwed. His heart hammered in his chest wildly, and he could feel the panic rising again.

“Talk to me, kid,” Tony said into his ear, scaring the shit out of him. “What’s going on?” 

Peter hadn’t realized Tony never hung up. “I d-don’t know where to go,” he said. “There’s eyes everywhere.” He stumbled out into the alley, leaning up against the neighboring building. “Oh man, I’m so fucked.” 

“What did you just say?” Tony snapped.

“Uh . . .” Did he say that out loud? 

“After I yell at you for this deli robbery, we are having a talk about your use of language,” Tony told him.

Peter groaned and rolled his eyes. “You act like you’ve never said that before.”

Tony was sure he had, but that’s beside the point. “You are too young to be using those words.” 

“I wasn’t aware there was a certain age limit on vocabulary words,” Peter snapped.

“You need a serious attitude adjustment, kid,” Tony said. 

“Yeah, well, I’ll work on it after this is over.” After his blood was cleaned up and he was out of the woods. And maybe once his leg was healed and he worked on that not sleeping problem he had been having lately. Hell, he had a lot of things to work on.

“I’m at the deli now,” Tony said. “You outback?” 

“Yeah.” He crouched beside a dumpster, hoping the cops wouldn’t come racing down the alley, searching for the criminal. 

“Are you hidden?” Tony asked.

“Somewhat,” Peter replied.

Tony scoffed. “That’s real assuring.” 

“If you hurry, we won’t get caught,” Peter reminded him. Why was he even arguing about this? 

“It’s not my identity on the line, kid,” Tony said, though it wasn’t harsh sounding. 

Peter put his head back and groaned. He really messed things up this time. Without a doubt.  This was some of his sloppiest work and look what it cost him. His leg was screwed up, the bad guy got away, and he had to have Tony come clean up his mess.  _ Tony.  _

As if Tony Stark wanted to spend his Thursday evening cleaning up a crime scene that Peter caused. 

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you out there,” Tony said. He was currently inside the deli, surveying the scene. Peter wasn’t kidding when he said he got a lot of blood on the floor. It looked like someone  _ died  _ in here. 

He activated one of the mini bots in his suit to dispatch and clean the blood off the floor before the police stormed in here. It quickly got to work, scrubbing and mopping up the blood, leaving no trace of Peter’s blood. 

Tony looked around or cameras, deciding quickly that they should be wiped. Just of the part where Peter got his blood all over the floor. He had Friday hack into the systems and wipe out that time frame, which she so kindly informed him that Peter had been  _ stabbed. _

Meaning the weapon was still here somewhere. 

“Scan for any weapons, Fri,” Tony said. “If he was stabbed, I’m sure blood will be all over it.” 

“According to the video footage I erased, he yanked it out and tossed it twenty degrees to your left,” she answered.

Tony looked to his left and lo and behold, there it was, partially hidden under a magazine rack. It was a decent size blade, and now Tony can see why there was so much blood on the floor.

“Are we done here?” he asked his AI.

“Footage has been wiped and Peter’s blood has been cleaned up, Boss. You’re good to go.” 

Great. He quickly made it way out of the deli and to the back alley, spotting the dumpster a few feet away from the door. He walked over to it, finding Peter laying against the other side. He slumped against the rusted metal, looking towards the sky.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tony asked. Other than his leg, the boy was looking  _ rough.  _ Peter had been acting weird lately, but all of this only confirmed his suspicions. Peter getting stabbed like that? In the leg? How did he allow someone to even get that close to him? A gunshot was one thing, but a stabbing was on a whole different level. 

“No,” Peter admitted. 

“Let’s get you back to the compound and get you cleaned up, okay?” Tony wasn’t sure how he was going to get him there without hurting his leg. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how Peter hobbled out here with it like that.

Peter let out a nervous laugh. “I suppose you’re going to fly me there. Again.” 

“Do you have another option? I’m open to suggestions.” 

Peter frowned. “No. Just . . . let’s get this over with.” 

Tony bent forward and scooped up the kid, trying not to jostle his leg too badly. He didn’t miss the hisses Peter made or the small whine in the back of his throat when they took off into the air. “I’ll fly high enough so people won’t see you. You know, don’t want to hurt your reputation and all that.” A lighthearted joke.

“Who cares about that anymore. I let someone get away. My reputation is dwindling.” It was clear Peter was bummed out about all this. 

“You can’t catch them all, kid.”

“Was that a Pokemon reference?” Peter asked, perking up just a little.

“Uh, I don’t know what a Pokemon is,” Tony said. But if it made the kid perk up like that, he might just go do some research. He felt like Peter was down a lot lately. 

Peter sighed. “Man, your childhood really did suck.” 

Yeah, because he didn’t know what a Pokemon was.  _ That’s  _ why it sucked. “Whatever, kid, I had a fine childhood.” Lies. His childhood consisted of scoldings and feeling like he was never good enough.

“Sure,” Peter said.

Neither of them said anything the rest of the way back to the compound. When they landed on the extended balcony, Tony walked him the rest of the way inside and up to the Medbay where they could deal with his leg.

Tony didn’t miss the way Peter bit his lip when he set him down on the examination bed. And he definitely couldn’t block out the tiny screams from the back of Peter’s throat when he peeled off the suit. 

“Sorry,” Tony said. “I’m sure this hurts.” 

“Something like that,” Peter grit through his teeth. 

“The good news is that it’s already beginning to heal.”

“What’s the bad news?” Peter asked.

Tony looked up at him. “It hurts like a bitch.” 

Peter let out a snort, throwing his head back onto the pillow. The overhead light was bright, and he closed his eyes, already feeling the exhaustion hit him.

“We need to talk,” Tony said, pulling up a stool to sit next to Peter’s bed. He looked down at Peter’s blood soaked leg. He could wash it off later. After they talked. “You need to tell me what the hell is going on with you. Why did this happen?” 

It took all Peter had to not let out a sigh. “I don’t know what you mean,” Peter lied.

“Like the hell you don’t. I’ve seen you stop enough generic crimes in the past year in under ten minutes, without getting so much as a scratch on you. But today, not only to you manage to get  _ stabbed,  _ but the guy got away and the pant leg to your suit is shredded. Why did he get close enough to do that?” 

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. “I guess I just . . . wasn’t all there today. I don’t know.” 

“I think you do,” Tony said, standing up from his stool. “And I think I know, too.” 

“Then why bother asking me?” Peter asked.

Tony shot him a look. “How long do you sleep at night?” He knew he got Peter there when the kid froze, looking like he wasn’t even breathing.

“Enough.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Tony asked. He walked over to the cabinets, looking through the one full of medicines and mixtures. “Because I can take one look at you without that suit on and know for a fact that you haven’t slept in a while.” Tony was all too used to not sleeping enough to know what it looked like to be exhausted. 

Peter stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say. 

Tony found what he was looking for and pulled the small glass full of liquid out of the cabinet. “Why don’t you sleep, kid?” 

Peter shut his eyes. “I . . . I’m too busy.” 

“Too busy doing  _ what?”  _ Tony didn’t sleep because of nightmares. That was reasonable. Peter saying he didn’t have  _ time . . .  _ What? 

“Living,” Peter said simply. “Making time for my friends. School. Spider-Man. May. It’s . . . a lot.” 

Tony poured the liquid into a small shot glass. “So your time management skills suck,” he stated. 

Peter frowned. “Something like that.” God, he felt pathetic admitting to Tony that he doesn’t have the time to sleep. 

Tony walked back over to Peter, handing him the glass. “Drink this. It will help.” 

Peter raised a brow. “With my time management skills?”

“Okay, smart-ass, no. Just drink the damn liquid and trust me for once, okay?” Tony said.

“I trust you all the time,” Peter said, throwing the liquid down his throat. It didn’t taste like anything, but it felt weird hitting his stomach. 

“Then why do you rarely listen to me?” Tony asked, genuinely curious. If Peter trusted him, why didn’t he ever do as he asked?

Peter felt his eyelids grow heavy, but he ignored it. He figured the adrenaline was wearing off and his body was ready to rest. “Just because I trust you, doesn’t mean I have to do as you say. I can still make my own decisions.” 

“Uh, kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but you don’t make very wise decisions.” He gestured to Peter’s leg. “Look what choosing not to sleep has gotten you.”

Peter supposed he was right. “Yeah, I . . . I guess I didn’t . . . didn’t . . .” He started drifting off, his words getting lost in the wind. “Realize how much  . . . I need s . . . sleep.” 

Tony watched the kid nod off. “You’re a teenager. An enhanced one at that. You  _ need  _ a lot of sleep. Two hours a night won’t cut it for you.”

“What . . . What did you do?” Peter slurred, finding it harder and harder to stay awake.

“Gave you something to knock you out,” Tony answered. “Your leg should be fine by the time you wake up,  _ and  _ you’ll be coherent enough to track down the criminal you lost.” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter mumbled. “He got away.”

“He did. And you’re going to find him. Because, frankly, I won’t have some goon who shredded your leg with a knife run free. He will pay for that,” Tony said. Never mind that he tried to rob a deli. He  _ stabbed  _ Peter. And ran away afterwards. There was no way Tony was going to let someone hurt that kid and get away with it. 

O . . . Okay,” Peter said sleepily. He took a deep breath and let it out. How could he be so stupid? He should have known sleep would affect his other life. His other ego.

Spider-Man.

He wasn’t a normal kid. By any means. He  _ needed  _ sleep or else he couldn’t be Spider-Man. He needed to take care of himself before anyone else. And yeah, Mr. Stark was right when he said Peter’s time management skills sucked, but it was just another thing he would have to work on.

Just as soon as he worked on listening to Mr. Stark when he tried to tell him what to do.


	6. Dogs and Being Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds a stray dog one night during patrol and is adamant to save it. After all, he's got to look out for the little guys, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this one, guys. It's super cute :( I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! 
> 
> Again, I don't proofread for grammar mistakes so sorry if there are some!

Peter had always wanted a pet, but May would never let him. 

When he was younger, he had begged and begged for a dog, a cat,  _ something.  _ But she never budged. And now that Peter thought about it, it was probably for the best. He loved animals, but taking care of one was a lot. Especially in an apartment. 

Even now, Peter was sure May wouldn’t allow him to have a pet, despite the age difference in when he last asked. Because now he was  _ never  _ home. He was Spider-Man, and he had to be out on the neighborhood to look out for the little guys. So there was no time for a pet.

But that didn’t stop Peter from making an attachment to one on the streets and not wanting to turn it loose. 

“Alright, buddy,” Peter said, crouched low next to his new friend. He had one hand resting between the dog’s pointy ears. “See that deli over there?” He pointed across the street to the deli he went to everyday after school. “Mr. Delmar has a cat and if you’re sneaky enough, you’ll be able to catch it before it skitters off.” 

The dog let out a low whine, its tail wagging. This was not how Peter expected his patrolling to go after school today, but if there weren’t any crimes taking place or people to help, he wouldn’t want to be spending it any other way. 

“Are you ready?” Peter asked the dog, who promptly raised its behind in the air, ready to take off. “Okay, three, two, one . . . go!” Peter took his hand off the dog’s head and watched it race across the street and through the open front doors of the deli. 

Peter saw the cat in the window jump ten feet in the air at the sight of the dog and go taking off, running through the store. 

Peter howled with laughter, firing a web across the street and swinging over the cars parked on the curb. He jogged through the front door, watching the dog bump into shelves and knock things over. “Here, boy!” Peter called.

“Get that animal out of my store!” Mr. Delmar hollered. 

“I’m on it!” Peter assured, skidding to a stop in front of the dog before it could continue to crash into more things. The cat was long gone, but that didn’t stop Peter from laughing at the panting dog in front of him. “Let’s go.” 

The dog followed him out of the store without a problem, and the returned to the dark alley across the street where they started. 

Peter laughed and took off his mask, crouching down in front of the dog. “You’re a good boy,” he told it, petting him on the back. “I wonder whose dog you are. They’re missing out.” There was no doubt the animal was a stray. It was far too skinny to have run away recently, and it was scared of nearly every person it came into contact with. Besides Peter. But he just figured the dog liked him because he fed him.

The dog barked happily, wagging its tail as Peter pet him. 

“You need a bath,” Peter said. The dog was covered in dirt and grime, not to mention it smelled gross. “And a house,” he added. Because he did. He wasn’t going to let the dog wander the night on the street. Who knows how long it’s been out here, cold and alone. 

But Peter didn’t know what to do. There was no way he could sneak a dog into the apartment with May home. And though Peter was stronger than the average human, he couldn’t carry a dog up the side of his building and through his bedroom window. Especially not one this big.

He pulled his mask back over his head. “Karen, what should I do with the dog?” 

“I’ve located an animal shelter ten blocks away,” she replied.

Peter shook his head. “No, I don’t want to take him to a shelter.” Peter hated animal shelters. 

“Then options are limited,” Karen said. “Unless you find a home or take him to yours, the shelter is the only place left for him to go.”

Peter sighed. He wouldn’t take the dog to a shelter. He couldn’t. He would feel guilty for the rest of his life. “Do you think Mr. Stark likes dogs?” Peter asked, looking down at the animal beside him.

~*~

“No, no, absolutely  _ not,”  _ Tony Stark yelled. “There are no animals allowed in this building.” He looked at the dog hiding behind Peter’s legs. “Especially not one so . . .”  _ Disgusting.  _

Peter frowned. “Come on, Mr. Stark! Why not?” 

Tony shot him a look. “Seriously, kid? This is a high security, government official compound. Not a housing facility for animals.”

“The Avengers stay here all the time!” Peter complained.

“Did you just call us all animals?” Steve Rogers asked, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Was this kid always this funny? 

The color drained from Peter’s face. “No, that’s not - I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained. “I’m just saying if people can live here, why can’t he?” He gestured to the dog behind him.

“Because that’s a dog, not a person,” Tony answered. “I’m not letting a dog live here, kid. Sorry.” Tony had never cared for a pet in his life and he wasn’t about to start. He had a rough time caring for himself, let alone a sixteen year old child that wasn’t even his. He had a harder time keeping Peter in line than running Stark Industries. Adding a pet on top of that would be a nightmare. That and he didn’t care much for animals. He didn’t hate them, but he didn’t love them to death, either.

“He has nowhere else to go!” Peter whined, the dog making a similar sound from behind him. 

“Why can’t you take him home?” Tony asked. “Surely May loves dogs.”

“She does, but she doesn’t want one,” Peter told him. “She won’t let me keep him.” 

Tony stared at him. “So you thought to bring him here instead? What makes you think I want him?” Tony often wondered what went through that kid’s mind. He decided that he would never truly know. 

Peter shrugged. “I dunno. You like me and I like the dog so maybe you’ll let me keep him here?”

His reasoning was poor, but Tony appreciated the kid for trying. “Why can’t you do what every other kid does and make a powerpoint presentation on why you should be allowed to have a dog? You know, and include how you will take care for it and feed it and all that great stuff?” 

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked.

Steve snickered and Tony shot him a look. “No, I’m just saying most kids ask if they can have a pet  _ before  _ they bring one home.” 

Peter didn’t miss the way Tony referred to this place as his  _ home.  _ Although Peter rarely stayed here, only choosing to stay on certain nights or after a late mission, this place  _ was  _ his second home. He knew he was always welcome here, just like the rest of the Avengers. “What was I supposed to do? Call and ask?”

“Preferably!” Tony said, his voice raised. 

“Would you have said yes if I called and asked first?” Peter questioned.

“No.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s not staying, Peter,” Tony said sternly. “He smells bad and I don’t want a dog ruining my things. This place isn’t full of cheap things, you know.”

“He’s a good dog!” Peter promised. “He only breaks stuff if I want him to.”

“That sounds reassuring,” Tony remarked. 

“That means he listens,” Steve chimed in. 

Tony looked over at him. “You, stay out of it. Don’t encourage this.” 

Steve looked away guiltily. “I’m just saying.”

“Well do me a favor and don’t say anything,” Tony said to him. “Unless you’re on my side.”

Steve held up a hand. “Oh, no, I’m done picking sides, remember? Last time that occured, it didn’t end well.”

Tony sighed. “I’m aware.”

“I can give him a bath,” Peter said, steering the topic back on track. “Then he won’t stink anymore and - there! One problem solved.” 

“No, no problems solved! He isn’t living here. Find him someplace else to live,” Tony said. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter whined.

“Don’t Mr. Stark me. I’m not owning a pet and neither are you. Spider-Man isn’t allowed to have pets because he’s never home to take care of one.” And that was the truth. 

Peter frowned. “What about Peter Parker?”

“Didn’t we just talk about not referring to yourself in the third person because it’s weird? Or was that just me?” Tony asked. “I swear we have conversations and I’m the only one that’s ever present for it.” 

“I’m there!” Peter argued.

“Just not completely,” Tony fired back. “Look, stop getting off topic. You can stay but the dog can’t.” He had never seen Peter be so adamant about an animal in his life. He knew the kid liked dogs, he had seen proof of that. He just never expected him to get so attached to one. Let alone a stray who looked like it was near death.

“It’s late,” Steve piped up. “Where’s the dog supposed to go?” 

Tony glared at him. “I thought I said no speaking unless it was to help me?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am helping. Let Peter keep the dog for the  _ night,”  _ he quickly added when he saw Tony’s eyes grow wide. “And tomorrow, we can find a place for the dog to live,” he finished. 

“Please,” Peter said quietly. 

Well that did it. Peter very,  _ very  _ rarely asked for something, let alone sounded pitiful and  _ begged  _ for said thing. Tony felt like everything he stood for was quickly washed away by that simple word. “Fine,” Tony said. “But only for the  _ night,  _ kid. You find a home somewhere else for it first thing tomorrow, got it?” 

Peter lit up like Tony had never seen. “Yes! I promise,” he said. “Come on, boy!” 

The dog shot off his feet, tail wagging. He trotted alongside Peter as they left the room, and Tony looked after them. 

“Where are you going?” Tony asked. 

“To get him a bath,” Peter answered over his shoulder. “I’m not sleeping with a stinky dog.” 

_ You shouldn’t be sleeping with a dog here at all,  _ Tony thought to himself. “Don’t destroy the bathroom, Parker. I mean it.”

“You have, like, twenty others you can use!” Peter yelled from down the hall. 

“That’s not the point!” Tony shouted after him.

Peter was long gone with the dog by then, and Tony walked over to the nearest couch and plopped down with a heavy sigh. He heard Steve chuckle, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, “If I knew all it took was an animal to get him to come over here, I would have bribed him with one a long time ago.”

Steve looked at him questionably. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. He knew Tony was attached to the kid - which was bizarre enough for the man in question - but he never expected to hear Tony admit he . . . misses the kid? “Would you have really?” Steve asked.

Tony leaned back in his seat. “No,” he admits. “I just . . . I don’t know.” He scratched his chin, lost in thought. “There was a time I thought the kid would  _ never  _ leave me alone. Actually, scratch that. I thought he would never leave poor Happy alone.” He smiled just thinking about it. Those were innocent times. 

Steve let out a small snort. “Tony.”

“What?” 

“Peter doesn’t vy for your attention anymore because he already  _ has it. _ Why would he keep pestering you when now he knows you’ll always answer on the first ring? Or always let him into your home?” Steve raised a brow at him. “Geez, Tony, you’re clueless.” 

“I am not,” Tony said defensively.

Steve laughed. “When it comes to that kid, yes, you are. Big time. It’s fine, Tony. When was the last time you even interacted with a kid before him?”

It had been a few years, but Tony didn’t want to count that. “Doesn’t matter. I’m good with the kid. I taught him life lessons and all that.” 

Steve shook his head. “Sure.”

“I did! He knows he’s Spider-Man even without the suit. It doesn’t make him who he is,” Tony argued. 

“Okay, what else?” Steve encouraged.

“Asking for help doesn’t make someone look weak. It makes them strong for even admitting they need it in the first place,” Tony continued.

Steve sat there in silence for a moment. Everything Tony had been teaching the kid had been his own mistakes over the past few years. Tony once thought the Iron Man suit made him who he was, and he almost never asked for help, despite needing it on many occasions. “You’re teaching him to not be like you,” Steve finally said.

“I take offence to that,” Tony said. 

Steve waved a hand. “You are.”

“So what if I am? The kid looks up to me for some God forsaken reason. He told me he wanted to be like me. And I told him I wanted him to be better. And I do - and he  _ is.  _ He’s -”  _ Everything I wish I was.  _

“Sounds like you’ve unintentionally adopted a kid, Tony,” Steve teased. 

“I did not. I just . . . Took him under my wing since he was so persistent.” That’s what he did, right? 

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, sure,” Steve replied. 

They were just about to drop the topic of Peter altogether when the kid’s familiar voice sounded from down the hall.

“No, wait!” Peter yelled.

Tony stood up and looked down the hall that Peter had disappeared down earlier, and saw a very wet and a very soapy dog dashing into the living room. Muddy pawprints were tracked across the floor behind him, and Tony could only imagine what was about to follow. 

Peter ran down the hall, but he wasn’t right behind the dog, ready to tackle him like Tony was expecting. No, instead, the kid was running on the  _ ceiling,  _ soaked with water and dripping it down onto the floor.

Tony stared at Peter in utter shock, and it took everything in Steve to not laugh loudly from his spot on the couch. 

“I can explain,” Peter said, pressing a hand to the ceiling and detaching his feet, dropping down onto the floor. 

“You better,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t know he didn’t like baths,” Peter said, as if that was the answer to all their problems. “I also may have forgotten to close the bathroom door.” 

Tony glanced behind Peter, down the hallway he came from. “If my hallway looks like  _ that,  _ I don’t even want to know what my bathroom looks like, do I?” 

Peter glanced away sheepishly. “Probably not. But like I said - twenty others!” 

“I have  _ eight  _ others, Peter. Eight! Not twenty. Get it right.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “My bad. I must not have been paying attention during your droning grand tour.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Droning? I do not give droning tours, Parker. There are people who would kill to be able to even get a tour of this place and you have the audacity to say it was droning?” 

The dog barked, getting ready to take off down the next hall, but Peter leaped into action and caught the dog before it could track more mud through the house. “I would love to keep talking, Mr. Stark, but he needs to finish his bath!” Peter picked up the dog and briskly walked back down the hall they came from.

“Wait just a second, I’m not done!” Tony shouted after him, but Peter never answered. 

Steve couldn’t take it anymore and roared with laughter. “That kid is something else.”

“That kid is a pain in my ass,” Tony said. “I can already feel a migraine coming on. I should have never listened to you and told him no dogs.” 

“Hey, I can’t help what he stumbles onto during his patrols. And I did help you. He agreed to find a place for the dog tomorrow. It’s one night, Tony. You’ll survive.” 

Tony shook his head. “I don’t even want to see my hallway. Or the ceiling.” Who does he think he is, running on the ceiling? He wasn’t raised in a barn! 

“He’s still a kid, Tony. He’s going to do outlandish stuff.” 

“Like walking on my ceiling!?” Tony exclaimed. 

Steve nodded his head. “He’s not a normal kid. You know that.” 

He was right about one thing. Peter wasn’t normal. Spider-Man or no, that kid was . . . something else. 

Tony paced the living room. “Do I dare go down the hall?” 

“If you don’t, I will,” Steve said. “That dog looked rough. Peter, too. I’m curious to see how much worse it looks the closer we get to them.” 

Tony groaned. “I’m not.” 

“Come on. This is something you’ll laugh about later.” Steve stood up, forcing Tony to follow. Just looking down the hall made Steve laugh. “Footprints on the ceiling, pawprints on the floor. I’m curious to see how this will be cleaned up.” 

“By none other than Peter Parker,” Tony answered.

“I gathered that much. I meant how’s he going to clean the ceiling?” It looked like the kid rolled in mud  _ with  _ the dog.

“He’s smart. He’ll figure it out,” Tony replied. “I’ll give him twenty more minutes before I hunt him down.”

Steve couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face. “Sounds good to me.” 

“He’s going to be the death of me, Rogers,” Tony said.

_ Yeah,  _ Steve thought.  _ And I’m sure you wouldn’t have it any other way. _

~*~

Peter had bathed the dog and towel dried him, discovering that the dog did  _ not  _ like the hairdryer. At all. But he didn’t mind being dried by a towel, so Peter considered it a win that he could even get the animal dry.

After he was done drying the dog off, the dog bolted from the bathroom as soon as Peter opened the door, and the dog found its way onto Peter’s bed. He did a few circles before lying down, groaning in comfort. 

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve slept in a bed, huh?” Peter asked, plopping down next to the dog. His shirt was still soaked in water, and maybe it wasn’t a good idea to lie in the bed and get that wet, too, but he figured this wing of the compound was wet and dirty enough, so what was one more thing? 

Peter pet the dog slowly, watching its eyes drift close. “I hope I can find you a good home,” Peter whispered. “You deserve it.” He curled himself around the dog’s body, closing his eyes for only a moment. But that was enough, apparently, as he fell asleep with one hand resting on the dog. 

~*~

Tony could barely look at the hallway as he walked down it, wondering just how in the hell the kid managed to make this much of a mess with a dog in the span of ten minutes. He didn’t even want to see the bathroom. Not in the slightest. 

When he reached the end of the hall where Peter’s bedroom was, the door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open the rest of the way and poked his head around the corner, expecting to see a catastrophe, but what he got was a lot less . . . horrible.

Peter was on his bed, curled right next to the dog, sound asleep. The dog had opened its eyes and perked its ears forward, watching Tony intently, but it didn’t move. 

Tony stared at the two of them, unsure of what to do. The hallway needed cleaned, but he didn’t want to wake Peter up to do it. He looked peaceful there. Tony didn’t want to ruin that. So he backed out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Steve stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall. “Well?”

“Kid’s asleep,” Tony said.

Steve smirked. “So who is going to clean all of this?” He gestured to the floor and ceiling. 

“I’ll get Dum-E on it.”

“Seriously? The kid gets off that easy?” Steve asked in disbelief. If it were anyone else, Tony would have woken them up loudly and demanded they clean his house up before going back to sleep for the night. 

Tony looked at him. “Yeah, he does.” 

“Why!?” Steve exclaimed. “If that were me-”

“Then you bet your ass you would be cleaning it up,” Tony finished for him. “But this isn’t your mess, so it shouldn’t matter to you.”

“It matters because it’s unfair,” Steve explained. 

Tony raised a brow. “You’re acting more like a kid than the kid,” Tony observed. “Life isn’t fair, Rogers. You of all people should know that.”

“Ridiculous,” Steve muttered. 

Tony shrugged. Steve could complain all he wanted about life not being fair and Peter being able to get away with a lot of shit, but this was Tony’s place, so it was his rules. “He will clean the bathroom on his own since it’s his.”

There. An easy compromise. 

But Tony didn’t mind cleaning up the mess in the hallway. Or rather, having Dum-E do it. After all, he cleaned up the kid’s messes all the time. What was one more as innocent as this one?


	7. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's class takes a sudden field trip to SI, and Peter is reluctant to go. But he told Ned he would go for him, and he plans to, until he wakes up late and misses the bus. Cue Peter struggling to get to SI with the rest of his class, followed by an unexpected visit from Tony Stark, who tries to give Peter a hard time for being late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS is almost 6k words alone, and it's one of my most cliche chapters!! But who doesn't love a classic field trip to SI? ;)

Peter was about ready to bang his head against the wall. 

“It’s just a field trip, Peter,” Ned said, watching his friend as he stared blankly at the desk in front of him, looking like he was giving up on life. “It won’t be  _ that  _ bad.”

“The last field trip I went on, I got bit by a spider and was given freaky powers,” Peter replied. Even though he liked his powers and never resented them, he still didn’t like the way he got them. That spider bite had  _ hurt.  _ And because of it, he was nervous around all spiders. Yet he was Spider-Man. The irony of it was almost laughable. 

Ned chuckled, shaking his head. “Peter, somehow I doubt that  _ Stark Industries  _ is going to have a bunch of genetically altered spiders ready to escape their cages and bite you.” 

God. Stark Industries. Of all places to go on a field trip, it just had to be there, didn’t it? Peter had been there a few times before, on his own account, but going with a class felt . . . strange. He didn’t want to go someplace where people would recognize him and draw attention to him. Ignoring the fact that everyone already thought his “Stark Internship” was fake, he much rather leave it at that than prove to everyone he  _ does  _ work there. Kind of. Not really. He just hangs out there. And it’s not even at the tower itself, but at the Avengers Compound. But it’s not like he could just tell people that’s where he hung out. 

However, if he were actually able to prove he knew Tony Stark and knew about Stark’s tech, people would see Peter differently, he felt like. People who were never his friend before would try to be one now, and the last thing he wanted was fake friends. Ned was enough. And maybe MJ. She was still a work in progress. 

“And if he did,” Ned continued, “then that would be pretty shitty of him and he was probably working with Oscorp all along!” 

Peter shot him a look. “Mr. Stark would never do something like that.” 

“And I’m sure you know all about what ‘Mr. Stark’ does, don’t you, Peter?” Flash Thompson said from a few seats over, leaning back far in his chair. “Since you work for him and all.” 

“Don’t give him the time of day,” Ned said, nudging Peter’s arm. “He’s not worth it.” 

Flash smirked at him. “Not going to defend yourself this time? Is it because you’ve finally given up on the lie?”

Peter blew out a breath. Was it worth it? No. But he couldn’t help it when he said, “I don’t need to defend myself. I know the truth and that’s what matters.” It didn’t, but Flash didn’t need to know that. 

“Aw, it’s sad that you tell the same lie so much that even you start to believe it,” Flash replied. “If Ned was a good friend, he would offer to get you some help.” 

Ned scoffed. “I’m more help than you realize, Flash.”

Peter shook his head slightly at his friend. He knew ned was referring to his title of “Guy in the chair” but only Peter knew about it. And Happy. And since Happy knew, so did Tony, but that’s besides the point. No one else could know. Especially not Flash. 

“I don’t even know what that means,” Flash said, giving them an odd look. “But I don’t really care.”

“Then why are you still talking?” Ned asked.

“You better watch it, Ned. You’re as much as a loser as Parker there, but you rank above him on the list. Don’t make me lower your name.” 

Ned furrowed his brows. “How lame do you have to be to have a list of losers?” he whispered to Peter. “I know we’re losers, but we aren’t that much of ones.” 

Yeah, Peter was about ready to bang his head against the wall. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, which, thank God. Peter was already done with this day  _ and  _ the next two to follow.

“Get your permission slips signed!” the teacher called out as everyone grabbed their things to rush out the door. “If you don’t turn them in by the morning, you don’t get to go.” 

Peter slung his bag over his shoulder. “If I misplaced my permission slip, you wouldn’t be mad, would you?” 

Ned paused putting his books in his bag. “Don’t you dare, Peter. I’m not going on a field trip to SI without someone to talk to. Who am I supposed to nerd out with over cool tech that I’m sure half the other kids here don’t care about?”

Peter frowned. “We can go to SI literally anytime we want. And we could probably see more than the other kids here.” Surely Tony wouldn’t care, right? In fact, Tony encouraged Peter to use his tools and equipment to do things. Experiments. As long as they were in reason. And as much as Peter appreciated the offer, he had yet to use the lab for anything other than web fluid. After all, it was easier to make it in a lab rather than hiding it in the school desk in chemistry class. 

“If that was the case, why haven’t we done that?” Ned ask, giving Peter a pointed look. “Listen, just go, Peter. It won’t be as big of a deal as you think. And who are you going to run into there, anyway? Aren’t Tony and the others at the new compound all the time?” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Peter admitted. He couldn’t remember the last time Tony actually went to SI. Pepper ran the place and might be the only one Peter saw if he were to run into anyone he knew. And even then, that was slim. Pepper was a busy woman. And Peter had only met and talked to her a handful of times. He had no idea how Tony ever managed to see her. Then again,  _ she  _ probably had good time management skills. 

(Yeah, Peter was still working on those).

“Okay, so you’ll have May sign your permission slip, right?” Ned asked.

With a sigh, Peter said, “Yeah.”

“Good! See you tomorrow,” Ned said, leaning in closer to whisper, “unless your alter ego needs be tonight. Then I’ll be in my chair.”

Peter couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat. “It’s not an alter ego,” he clarified. “It’s still me. Just . . . a secret part of me.”

“Dude, you’re like, the Hannah Montana of 2018,” Ned told him.

“Come on, don’t compare me to Hannah Montana,” Peter groaned. 

Ned laughed loudly. “You are! You live a double life.”

Peter began walking away, practically running down the steps to the front of the school to get away from Ned and his comparisons. 

“See you tomorrow, Peter!” Ned called after him.

Peter waved behind him, saying bye to Ned. He jogged to his favorite alleyway, the bag on his back heavy with the weight of the permission slip inside. As much as he didnt’ want to go and hear Flash’s insults all day about things he didn’t even understand, he would go anyway. Just for Ned.

So later that night, he had May sign the permission slip and shoved it back in his backpack. If it somehow didn’t make it to school in the morning, he wouldn’t be too upset by it.

~*~

The permission slip made it to school. 

It also made it right into the teacher’s hands as he came around and collected them from everyone.

Peter blamed Ned for that last part. He thought Ned had been kidding when he said he would rip it from Peter’s hands and turn it in for him if he didn’t hand it over himself.

(Obviously he wasn’t kidding). 

~*~

Peter could already tell it was going to be a bad day when he woke up late and saw three missed calls from none other than Ned. 

_ “Shit,”  _ Peter hissed, springing out of bed and grabbing the first pair of clothes he could find on his floor that didn’t smell. He played Ned’s voicemails as he ran around his room and got ready, barely catching all three he left.

_ “Dude, I swear to God if you just skip school altogether and don’t show up, you’re dead to me.” _

_ “Okay maybe not dead to me, but you know what I mean.” _

_ “Peter, if you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the bus and then what am I supposed to do? Don’t make me suffer.”  _

Was he going to miss the bus? How late had he slept? Peter didn’t even patrol as late as usual last night. In fact, he was home two hours earlier than normal and even went to bed at a normal time. If anything, he was shocked that he had overslept.

He pulled on his shoes, not bothering to retie the laces, and grabbed his bag from the corner and raced out the door. The one time he needed woken up, and May had a late shift. Or was it an early shift? Peter could hardly keep up with her work anymore. He just knows that she works a lot and when she doesn’t, he’s at home hanging out with her.

When he burst through the front door of his apartment building, he nearly crashed into all the people walking along the sidewalk. He yelled out apologies as he ran, doing his best to reach the school in time, even though he wasn’t really looking forward to the field trip. He told Ned he would go for him and he meant it. He wasn’t going to paint himself a liar.

About halfway to the school, Peter regretted not suiting up and webbing his way to the school. It would have been much quicker and less tiring than running ten blocks to get there. He  _ could  _ have taken the train, but there was no telling how long he would have had to wait for that, and he could  _ not  _ miss the bus to SI. 

Rounding the last block, Peter was finally running out of breath, only to lose it all completely when he saw the school bus being loaded up with the last of the kids and the door shutting. 

“What kind of field trip to SI leaves this early!?” Peter asked himself, astonished. Only then did he realize he hadn’t bothered to check the time before he left, and just now pulled out his phone to look. School had started forty minutes ago. So it  _ was  _ an acceptable time for a field trip to leave.  

As he stared at the clock on his phone, it began vibrating with Ned’s number popping up on the screen. Reluctantly, Peter answered it.

“Not cool, man,” Ned said in a way of greeting. “You said you would come for me. Some friend you are.”

Peter huffed out a sigh. “I woke up late! And I’m actually at the school and watched the bus leave.” He frowned, still mad at himself for missing the bus. 

“The one time you actually sleep . . .” Ned trailed off. 

“Yeah, I know,” Peter groaned. “I’ll still come. Just . . . not on the bus with the rest of you.” 

There was a beat of silence, followed by, “How are you just going to show up and explain that to Mr. Dugan?” 

“I’ll figure that out when I get there.” Hopefully. Maybe he could convince Mr. Dugan that he had been on the bus the whole time and he just skipped over him. Yeah, that would work.

“This should be good,” Ned said. “I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, you will,” Peter answered, hanging up the phone. He shoved his back in his backpack and jogged to a nearby alley, ready to pull out his last resort. 

The Spider-Man suit was stuffed at the bottom, underneath all his textbooks. If Tony Stark could see how well Peter took care of the suit, there was no doubt he would get yelled at for it. Something about that being “thousands of dollars” for “technology people would kill to have their hands on” and how he should take better care of it and bla bla bla. 

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ Peter had heard something similar before. But what was he supposed to do? Not everyone had fancy display cases to just store their suit it. And it’s not like he could just hang it up in his closet with a hanger like the rest of his clothes.

So until Tony had a solution for  _ that . . .  _ Well, it was staying stuffed in the bottom of his backpack.

Peter suited up, saying a quick hello to Karen when she greeted him. Normally he would web his backpack up to the wall or some creavass, but he had no choice but to take it with him this time. He tossed it over his shoulders, and fired a web high up, lifting himself off the ground. He flew through the air, letting the crisp morning breeze cool him down after all that running he did earlier. 

It was very easy to spot SI in the air - or from anywhere, really - and he swung in large arcs over to the building, stopping about two blocks away to get changed in someplace more hidden. There was no doubt the building was crawling with secret cameras and security in general, and the last thing Peter wanted was to be caught changing out of his Spider-Man suit. That, and he was sure Tony would never let him live it down. 

He quickly got changed back into the clothes he threw on this morning, and stuffed his Spider-Man suit back into his bag (this time not beneath all his textbooks). He jogged across the street and over two blocks until he was at the front of the SI building, where he spotted the school bus parked on the street. From what Peter could tell, everyone had already unloaded.

“How did they get here quicker than me?” he asked himself. Was he really slacking that badly today? 

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Peter made his way inside the building, stopping when he reached the front desk. He didn’t recognize the woman behind it, which, then again, he wasn’t really expecting to see anyone he knew here. He rarely came here. 

The woman looked up from her computer, smiling at Peter. “How can I help you today?” she asked him.

“I’m, um, here with the school. The field trip,” he clarified. 

“They’ve already gone inside,” she answered sweetly. 

“Yeah? I’m running a little late, so I just need to-”

“You need a pass,” she said, cutting him off. “And we already handed out all the passes we were told to have ready, so they must not have been accounting for you.” Her tone lost any trace of sweetness. 

Peter grumbled to himself and let his backpack fall off his shoulders. He already had a pass - his own personal pass - that he used maybe once ever. He hoped it was still in the bag somewhere and not discarded at home on his bedroom floor. He dug around for it, careful not to let any part of his suit fall out for prying eyes.

The lady behind the desk looked at him, concerned. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my pass,” Peter replied. It had to be in here somewhere. He hadn’t touched it since he last used it. 

“Listen, kid, you can just call and make an appointment for another day-”

“No need!” Peter cheered, pulling out his bent up pass from the bottom of his bag. “I found it.” He zipped his bag back up and put his arms through the straps. “Here you go.” He handed it to the lady to scan.

She took it from him cautiously, running it beneath the scanner on the desk. It made a buzzing sound that Peter had never heard before. She looked back up at him. “It’s expired.”

“Expired!?” Peter exclaimed. “How can it be expired? Why does that  _ even  _ expire?” he asked. Who makes an all access pass that  _ expires?  _ He needed to have a word with Tony about this. 

The woman handed the pass back to him. “Sorry, I don’t know. All I know is that you can call and make an appointment and we can-”

“I don’t need to call and make an appointment,” Peter grumbled. 

“That’s what everyone else has to do, so that’s what you have to do, too,” she explained. “Sorry.” 

She wasn’t sorry at all. Peter could tell. He had the urge to kick the desk in front of him out of frustration. But he refrained. “Who do I call?” he asked instead. 

“You’ll have to call our HR department and fill out an application which will then be run through a background check and processed to Mr. Stark for approval,” she said.

Peter stared blankly at her. As if Mr. Stark would deal with something as lame as that. Peter doubted even Pepper was in charge of something like that. It was probably some intern or secretary that looked through applications and sorted through them for approval. It was funny to think that  _ Tony  _ would do something like that. Peter almost laughed.

On the other hand, Peter didn’t have time for some process that probably took days. But if she was under the impression that Tony approved people for passes . . . 

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Tony’s number and held the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. He tapped his foot impatiently, almost surprised that Tony didn’t answer on the first ring. After about the fifth one, he finally picked up.

“Mr. Parker,” Tony said, sounding not at all shocked to be receiving a phone call from him. “This had better me good. I’m in the middle of giving a lecture.” 

“So really I’m sparing everyone else in the room by having your undivided attention,” Peter quipped. 

“You seriously need an attitude check. I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but it isn’t your friends from school,” Tony said, though he wasn’t really mad. He never was. 

“Speaking of friends and school . . .” Peter began, trailing off. Where did he begin? “I-”

“Already know you’re not here,” Tony finished.

Peter stayed silent for a moment before saying, “What?” 

“You, Peter Parker, are not currently with his classmates in the demonstration lab,” Tony tittered. He clicked his tongue. “I’m anxious to hear your excuse for this.”

“It’s not an excuse!” Peter retorted. “I overslept.” 

“You overslept?” Tony sounded just as shocked as Ned had. 

“Yes, but that’s not the point!” Peter snapped. “The point is that I need in there and this lady at the front desk won’t let me in! She’s telling me my pass expired, which, by the way, makes no sense at all. Who makes passes like this that expire? I bet yours doesn’t expire.” 

Tony snorted on the other end of the line. “I don’t need a pass, kid. I own the place, remember? My name is on the building and everything.”

“Who can forget?” Peter said with an eyeroll. “Just let me in,” he whined. 

“You’re awfully whiny this morning,” Tony informed.

For the third time this week, Peter felt like banging his head against the wall. He was pretty sure he growled or made some similar noise  in the back of his throat, as the door across the lobby opened and Tony Stark stood on the other side, phone pressed against his ear. 

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Tony said, promptly hanging up the phone. He looked at the lady behind the desk. “He’s with me. He doesn't need a pass.” 

Peter found himself glaring at Tony and the woman, walking over to Tony anyway, a frown resting on his face. 

“Geez, you look like I just kicked a puppy. You should be happy I’m letting you in,” Tony said lightheartedly. 

“Why are you even here?” Peter blurted. “I mean . . . You’re  _ never  _ here. You’re usually at the compound.” 

Tony raised a brow. “I thought I’d show up for Midtown Tech’s field trip. Be a special guest and all.” 

“Mmhmm.” Peter had a hard time believing that, yet he couldn’t come up with any other good reasoning as to why Tony was here at SI and not the Avengers Compound. 

“You sound skeptical,” Tony pointed out. 

“Yeah.”

Tony shot him a look. “Are all teenagers moody like you? Or is it just a Peter Parker exclusive?”

“If you choose to hang out with teenagers, this is what you get,” Peter said, though he didn’t think he was  _ that  _ moody. He was just having a bad day. The saying of when you wake up late and everything for the whole day is messed up . . . well, that’s certainly true. Peter felt like nothing was going to get back on track, no matter how hard he tried.

He walked with Tony up a level to the demonstration lab where the rest of the class was at. Peter spotted Ned in the back of the group, focusing intently on the work table in front of him, watching the scientist do whatever it was he was doing. 

Tony swiped his pass through the scanner, allowing the door to open. He looked down at Peter, one brow raised in question. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t have a pass? Since you own the building and all?” Peter reminded. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “I still need a pass to get in and out of rooms. It’s quicker than typing a password each time. Geez.” 

The rest of the class had noticed the two new additions to the room, and Peter could feel his face heating up with red. It got even worse when Tony clasped a hand onto his shoulder and told everyone, “Sorry about that, I had a small issue to deal with.” He steered Peter towards the rest of his classmates, letting go when he was mixed into the crowd.

Peter wanted to jump out the window.

“Wow, Parker,” Flash said, pushing past a few kids who were blocking his view of the boy in question. He was about to say something more when Tony cut off the rest of his words with his own.

“I know, right? It was nice of Mr. Parker to finally join us.”

Whether or not Tony knew Flash was aiming for something insulting, Peter didn’t know. But he was at least the tiniest bit thankful that he didn’t have to endure his insults in front of the rest of his classmates. It was different at school. People could hear them, sure, but more often than not, they didn’t. But here, all eyes and ears were on them.

Ned tapped Peter on the shoulder. “You had Mr. Stark come get you?” he whispered, unable to hide the snicker in his voice. 

“What? No,” Peter replied with a frown. “I got here on my own, I just needed past the lobby doors, and he was the quickest way in.”

Ned laughed, shaking his head. “Sure thing, Peter.” 

“He was!” Peter exclaimed. “How else was I supposed to get in here? You were all already in the building. It’s not like I could just join your group on your way in.” 

“Mr. Parker,” Tony called from the front of the room. “ _ You _ might think I’m tedious to listen to, but your classmates might be interested in hearing what I have to say. So if you could stop chatting so loudly and be mindful of those around you, that would be great.” 

Peter shot daggers at the man. Now he was intentionally going to embarrass him in front of the rest of his class? Nice. That’s exactly what he  _ didn’t  _ want. He turned to Ned, giving him the same look he gave Tony. “This is your fault.”

“Come on, Peter, it’s not that bad,” Ned whispered quietly. “At least it’s just Mr. Stark.”

To him it was “just Mr. Stark” but to the rest of the kids in here, it was  _ the  _ Tony Stark. And to get scolded by  _ the  _ Tony Stark . . . He would never live it down. Especially not from Flash. 

They continued onto their tour, out of the demonstration lab and into one of the conference halls. Why they were going to a place as boring as that one, Peter wasn’t sure. There was nothing in here. Nothing but a large table and about thirty chairs. 

He had the urge to tell Tony that not only were his lectures boring, but so were his tours. Just to give him a hard time. But Peter would ever say something like that in front of all these people. They wouldn’t understand  _ and  _ it would be embarrassing. 

“ . . . but no, all those meetings are held at the compound upstate,” Tony said.

Peter only caught the end of that answer to someone’s question, assuming it was about the Avengers, since Tony mentioned the compound.

“Do all the Avengers go to the compound?” someone else asked front the front of the group. Peter couldn’t see who.

“For the most part,” Tony answered. “Although I have a hell of a time getting Spider-Man there. He thinks I’m too boring.” 

Peter nearly choked on the very air he was breathing. What!? 

Ned shot him a look, keeping his lips pressed together to suppress a smile.

“So you know Spider-Man?” someone asked excitedly. “Is he an Avenger, then?”

“Only when he’s needed,” Tony informed. “Hopefully he won’t be,” he added.

Now  _ that  _ caught Peter’s attention. However, he stayed still and silent, hoping everyone - including Tony - would forget that he was even there.

“Why not?” a girl asked. “Do you think he can’t handle it?” 

“Oh, no, I think he can handle it,” Tony said confidently. “Look how well he handles your city. Queens is in good hands. It’s just that the Avengers work is serious work and often times dangerous work. I wouldn’t want to get your city’s hero injured out there. Then what would Queens do? The crime rate would go up and there would be no one to bring it back down.”

Was this a compliment? Or was this still Tony’s way of saying Peter shouldn’t be an Avenger? But he just said he thought he could handle it. So why-

“Are you still with us back there, Mr. Parker?” Tony asked, looking at him over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Somewhat,” Peter blurted. “I mean - uh - yeah.”

Flash snorted from the front of the group. “Are you too good for Avengers talk now? Oh, wait, you probably know all about this stuff since you know Mr. Stark so well. Isn’t that what you said a couple of days ago?” 

_ Oh God, please stop talking,  _ Peter thought to himself.  _ Please don’t get Mr. Stark involved, please don’t-  _

“Peter back there probably knows me better than I know myself,” Tony said, sucking all the air out of the room with that one sentence. “He’s a very smart kid, which is why I allow him to work for me. He brings ideas to the table that no one else has ever thought of.” 

Slightly true, but not really. What was Tony doing? 

“And you should be nice to Mr. Parker,” Tony said to Flash, his tone turning very serious. “You never know when you might need him someday.” 

“Well that’s cryptic,” Ned muttered. “And scary.”

Peter closed his eyes. This wasn’t going well. “He’s talking about when Flash might need . . . my alter ego,” he explained. Even though Peter didn’t like Flash much, or at all, really, if he still needed saving, Peter would save him. It’s who he is and what he does. 

“I’m just saying,” Tony continued, “that Peter is smart enough to invent some tech you might need or want someday in the future. If you’re mean to him now, he might not let you have any of it in the future.” 

Peter knew Tony spewed a lot of bullshit, but this was by far the biggest amount he had ever heard. If Steve or Natasha knew what he was saying right now, they would be all over him. So Peter made a mental note to have Friday replay the audio she was undoubtedly recording. 

“And I don’t tolerate bullying,” Tony finished. “Not in this building. So knock it off or you will wait in the lobby until your field trip is over.” 

There it was. There’s the Tony Peter had been expecting. The one that he thought was going to ruin his day. But surprisingly enough, his mood didn’t worsen after that. In fact, it slightly improved. To hear Tony . . . praise him for his work he did, it made him feel happy knowing that he was finally doing something right when all he ever thought he did was wrong. 

“Let’s continue,” Tony said, leading everyone out of the large conference room. 

Only Tony Stark could go from serious to chill in a matter of seconds. For some it was unnerving, but for Peter, it was the norm. He expected no less from  _ the  _ Tony Stark.

~*~

The rest of the tour was boring - for Peter anyway. Tony showed them all tech he had seen a thousand times, and even let them see a prototype for an Iron Man suit he wanted to work on. 

(Though, Peter knew this was just for show, and that all the Iron Man suits were at the compound). 

Luckily for Peter, and to the disappointment of everyone else, they had to be back at the school by lunch. So shortly after being shown the fake Iron Man suit, the class headed back down to the lobby and turned in their visitor passes to the lady at the desk.

Peter pulled out his pass from his backpack, handing it to Tony instead. “Here. You can have this back since it  _ doesn’t work.”  _

Tony held the pass in his hands, looking at it in disgust. “It probably doesn’t work because it looks like it got ran over by a train.” He looked back at Peter. “I don’t even want to see the suit that’s shoved into your backpack.” 

“Yeah, you probably don’t,” Peter replied.

Tony let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You give me headaches. And how many times do I have to tell you to take care of the things I give you? They aren’t cheap, you know.” 

“I know,” Peter agreed. “Trust me. I could sell the suit on Ebay for millions of dollars.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “If I  _ ever  _ see that suit on  _ Ebay,  _ kid, I swear to God-”

Peter laughed, patting Tony’s arm. “Don’t worry, it’s not for sale. I like it too much to get rid of it.” He plucked the pass out of Tony’s hand. “This, however-”

“Give me that,” Tony snapped, snatching it back from Peter’s grasp. “You are not selling someone a pass to SI that doesn’t even work.” 

Peter frowned. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” Tony argued. “If I was no fun, that dog of yours wouldn’t still be at the compound.”

Peter lit up at the mention of the dog. He had named him Chance, after that one old Disney movie he used to love to watch with May all the time. And because the dog had another chance at a good life. “He’s only at the compound because Clint hasn’t come to take him back to his house yet,” Peter pointed out. 

“That might be true, but he’s still there,” Tony said. “I could easily have him taken -” He stopped when he saw the glare Peter was giving him. “But, yeah, I’m letting him stay there until Clint comes to get him.” 

After an hour’s worth of arguing the next day about the dog, they came to an agreement to let Clint have the dog. His kids would love it and Peter knew for a fact that Chance would love them. It was better for everyone involved. Even though Peter still wanted a pet, he knew he wouldn’t ever be around to care for one. And he wasn’t going to burden Tony with that responsibility either. 

“Alright, line up by the door so I can do a roll call!” Mr. Dugan shouted amongst the chatty teens. “And, Peter, I swear you weren’t on my bus earlier.”

Oh yeah. “Yes, I was! I was right next to Ned.” 

Tony shook his head. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but liars aren’t allowed on the Avengers Initiative.” 

“Then how did you make it on there?” Peter fired back.

“You’re a shit head, you know that?” Tony asked.

“Good thing you’re always here to remind me.” Peter adjusted the bag on his back and made his way over to the rest of his classmates. He was going to catch the bus back to the school. He didn’t feel like webbing his way back. Not after this morning. “I’ll see you later.” 

Would he? “Sure, kid. See you.” 

Peter followed the rest of the class back outside and onto the bus, finding a seat next to the window. 

Ned plopped down next to him, laughing. “That was some field trip. I can’t believe Mr. Stark scolded Flash like that in front of everyone. It was awesome.” 

Yeah, it kind of was. 

“And then he talked about Spider-Man!” Ned said excitedly. “How did that make you feel?”

“It was . . .” Peter wasn’t sure how to explain how he felt. So he settled on, “Strange.” 

“I bet it was,” Ned agreed. “And, see, you didn’t even want to come.” 

A part of Peter still wished he didn’t, but it wasn’t as bad as he had been expecting, so he could make peace with this school field trip. Just this once. 

They pulled back onto the street and drove back towards the school, and just when Peter thought this day was getting back on track and coming to an end, a familiar streak of red and gold flew by the bus windows, causing everyone to yell in excitement.

Iron Man flew next to the bus windows, flying right next to the one Peter had been happening to sit at. He waved at all the kids crowding around the window before blasting off ahead, presumably back to the compound upstate. 

“Show off,” Peter muttered, as if he had never done the exact same thing, just as Spider-Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there were no grammar mistakes :)


	8. Aliens vs Peter Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds himself in an unlikely situation where he's held hostage by an alien creature with other civilians, and has to pretend like he's just like them. He just hoped Tony will find them before something that Peter Parker can't stop happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENJOY!

_ Three days ago _

“Just take the damn phone, Parker,” Tony snapped. “You need a new one.”

Peter refused to take the phone from Tony’s hand. “My old one still works. I don’t  _ need  _ a new one.” Peter had always been the type of person to only ask or take something that he  _ needed.  _ Not that he wanted. Growing up with May and Ben taught him that quickly. There was a difference in needs and wants, as was the money that was involved to purchase such things.

“Your old one looks like it fell to Earth from Asgard. I don’t know how you even type on that thing without getting glass shards from the screen in your fingers,” Tony explained.

What Peter wasn’t going to tell him was that he did get tiny shards that poked into his fingers. But all the loose pieces must have already stabbed him and fallen out, considering he hadn’t had a run in with any when he typed recently. But that's beside the point. The phone still worked, meaning he didn’t need to replace it yet. 

“Just take the phone,” Tony urged again.

“No,” Peter persisted.

Tony let out a frustrated sigh. “You had no problem taking the Spider-Man suit I gave you. How is this any different?” 

“One, I didn’t even know you were giving me another suit, okay? Not until Happy yelled at me to put it on. And, two, I didn’t know it was going to basically be an Iron Man suit without the Iron! You had all the cool programs blocked,” he reminded. 

“For good reason! You weren’t ready for the ‘cool stuff’ so I didn’t let you have it. But you’re ready now. And you’re also ready for a new phone.” Tony shoved the device at Peter once more. Why did this kid have to have such good morals? Sometimes it would be easier if he didn’t. “It’s a gift. From me. I know plenty of people who would never turn down a gift from Tony Stark.” 

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, snatching the phone from Tony’s hand. “I’m only taking it so you’ll stop being annoying.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Annoying? I’ll take that phone right back if you don’t watch it.” 

A smirk formed on Peter’s lips. “Oh, darn. Here, take it now and it will save you the trouble later.” He held it back out in front of him for Tony to take.

Tony frowned. “I see what you’re doing here, kid, and it’s not going to work. The phone is yours. Just enjoy it, okay? It’s not a bad thing to accept gifts from people sometimes.” 

No, it wasn’t. But this wasn’t just some ten dollar gift from the store down the street. This was a  _ cell phone.  _ And a StarkPhone at that! This was easily a few hundred dollars, maybe more. “I won’t use it.” 

“Sure you won’t,” Tony replied. “Either way, it’s there now for if you  _ do  _ need it. Now, I have some meeting I don’t want to attend to go to and Pepper will be pissed if I don’t go, so I will see you around sometime. Take care of that phone, Parker. If you manage to smash the screen on that, even I would be surprised.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Peter asked.

“Don’t even try,” Tony answered.

Peter wouldn’t try. But he also wouldn’t be using the phone enough to get that far, so he told himself. 

 

_ Three days later _

 

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ the StarkPhone was cool. At least, cooler than his other phone. Peter hadn’t expected it to have so many features on it. 

So many unnecessary ones, might he add. 

It was clear that Tony had specifically programmed this phone for him, as the more he played with it, the more he found features on it that were Spider-Man exclusive. For one, Karen had been programmed onto the device to act like a Siri from Apple phones, but she could do far more than Siri. She, apparently, could do everything on the phone that she did in the Spider-Man suit, and that was a little startling to Peter.

(Like, who the hell needs a phone that can kill someone instantly?) 

He had deactivated most of Karen’s features, just in case he did something wrong and set her off. Though, he had discovered it was a little more challenging for him to get her to do things on the phone than it was in the suit - something he later learned was a safety mechanism should any unwanted person get ahold of his phone.  

All in all, as much as Peter hated to admit it, he was obsessed with the phone. 

When he had first gotten home the day Tony gave it to him, he had chucked it on his bed and didn’t touch it that whole afternoon. But when bedtime rolled around and he found himself unable to get to sleep, he dug it out from under his mess of blankets and sheets and fiddled around with it. Needless to say he didn’t end up falling asleep for a very long time.

Peter was still upset that Tony gave him such an expensive gift, however. But it didn’t matter how many times he tried to explain it without bringing the cost into play, Tony still wouldn’t take it back.

However, after today, he might find that he shouldn’t have given it to Peter at all. 

Normally, after school, Peter would be the first out the doors and hop the fence surrounding the school, speeding to the nearest alley to suit up and patrol. But this time, he decided he wasn’t going to patrol so early. 

He walked with the rest of the kids out of the school, looking down at the phone in his hands. He was still discovering more apps to play with, and he was actually surprised at how many things Tony crammed into the phone. It seemed like there was something new to discover each time he turned it on.

Peter plugged in his headphones and began playing music to drown out the sound of the buzzing city around him. Sometimes being on the subway or on the crowded streets agitated his ears, due to his enhanced senses. Wearing headphones helped keep the noise balanced.

So, naturally, when Peter took the subway halfway to his house and got off to walk the remaining five blocks home, he wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to anything that was going on around him. It wasn’t until someone slammed into his side did he snap his attention away from his phone and actually  _ look  _ at what he was walking into.

And it wasn’t good.

Medium sized, unearthly creatures were rampaging through the streets, smashing the windows of nearby buildings and denting the roofs of people’s cars on the street. They made this horrible clicking sound that was loud enough to overpower the music blaring in Peter’s ears.

He reached up and yanked out the headphones, ready to backtrack and find the nearest alley to go change in, but as soon as he turned around to bolt, one of the alien creatures towered over him and reached out, gripping him tightly. It was big enough to wrap its whole claw-like hand around Peter’s torso.

“Oh  _ shit,”  _ Peter grunted. He hadn’t expected the creature to be so strong. “That hurts.” 

The creature made a low sound in the back of its throat, similar to a growl. He looked around quickly, deciding to get off the sidewalk - and take Peter with it.

It leaped what had to have been twenty feet in the air, still clutching Peter tightly in its grasp. It gripped on to a nearby building with its other claw and began to climb, quicker than what Peter originally imagined.

He struggled against its hold, trying to break free, but it appeared that the creature was stronger than what Peter could burst out of. Then again, he wasn’t really that surprised, considering the thing was ten times bigger than him. 

Still, Peter needed help. The city needed help. And there was only one person he could rely on to get the job done,  _ if  _ Peter was able to call him. But he couldn’t. His phone was gone somewhere on the sidewalk, having dropped it when the creature grabbed him by surprise.

There was another phone, gone. Tony wasn’t going to be thrilled about that.

“Let . . . go!” Peter gasped, punching at the alien that held him, but it only hurt his hand rather than persuaded the creature to let him go.

It continued to scale the building and leap between the others when it got high enough, working quickly like it knew exactly where it was going. 

Peter continued to struggle, starting to worry that it was taking him back to its alien spaceship to abduct him, and he really didn’t feel like taking an impromptu trip to space - as cool as that might be. He needed to call for help if Tony and the others hadn’t seen it on the news already, but he couldn’t break free.

He hadn’t felt so helpless in such a long time.

The alien burst through a large window that had already been broken out, and hobbled across the floor, over to a large, circular desk. It was clear this place was some kind of business, but it had been trashed and abandoned - probably from the sudden alien invasion.

The creature lifted Peter over the desk and dropped him on the other side, onto the ground, and made a horrible screeching sound. 

Peter knew he wasn’t alone the second he looked over the desk. The alien had been gathering people and putting them where he thought no one could get out, but it didn’t look like anyone had actually  _ tried  _ to escape. They were probably too scared and Peter could understand why. Even his heart was pounding in his chest. 

The alien reached for Peter once again, and Peter thought it was going to pick him back up, but it instead ripped the backpack off his shoulders and chucked it somewhere across the room. Slobber dripped from the sharp teeth in its mouth, onto the desk. It slid across the wooden surface and over the edges, falling to the ground.

Peter was disgusted.

“Don’t touch it,” someone next to Peter whispered. 

Peter looked over at a young boy, who couldn’t have been older than nine. It was taking  _ children.  _ “Why?”

“It hurts,” he answered. “It’s like . . . superpowered alien slobber.”

Well that’s great. Luckily for Peter, he could clear the desk in one jump no problem. Also unlucky for Peter, he couldn’t use any superhuman attributes to do so. There were at least twenty other people crammed into the circular desk space with him, and he looked just as average as the rest of them. So that’s what he was going to have to be.

Peter Parker. 

Spider-Man was nowhere to be found at the moment. 

The other aliens outside the building screeched loudly, and the one that kidnapped Peter cocked its head like it was listening to them. It screeched back, hurting everyone else’s ears, but nearly deafening Peter’s. It leaped off the desk hurriedly and soared back out the window, leaving the Peter to sit idly in the circle with the others.

“Does anyone in here have a phone?” Peter asked. If he could just call Tony, he could come help them all out quickly, and Peter could suit up and help get rid of the aliens. 

No one answered, which aggravated Peter to no end. How hard was it to just say no? 

“Oookay,” Peter drawled out, looking back out over the desk and out the shattered window. How badly could the alien slobber hurt? He had enhanced healing and a higher withstand to pain. Surely a quick tap wouldn’t kill him.

“I seriously wouldn’t,” the boy said again. 

“What?” Peter asked, whipping his head around to face him.

“Touch the slobber,” the boy explained. “It  _ will  _ hurt. And you’ll wish you sat here and waited, just like the rest of us.”

Peter didn’t have time to wait. The aliens were rather close to his home and he was worried about May. Especially if Tony and the other sparse Avengers hadn’t seen the commotion yet and decided to get in on it. “Who last touched it?” It didn’t look like anyone in here was in agonizing pain. Or dead. 

The boy shrugged. “Some man who was in here about an hour ago. After he touched it and starting screaming bloody murder, the alien came back and took him.” 

So it didn’t sound like there was a way out without Peter giving away his identity. Unless . . . “Can’t you guys just boost someone up and throw them over the desk so they miss all the slobber? Have any of you tried that?” He looked around, being met with blank faces. Unbelievable.

“We don’t want to risk it,” the boy told him. “What if it knows and comes back to take us all?” 

Peter didn’t think the alien could possibly know if someone leaped over its killer drool, but then again, he knew nothing about the creatures that were wreaking havoc on his town. For all he knew, the alien drool could have a sensor-like quality, alerting it that its prey was getting away.

Yeah, Peter wasn’t going to risk everyone’s lives like that. 

“I just need a phone. If I had one-”

“Who are you going to call?” some woman from the back piped up. “Who is going to come in here and get us? Everyone is running for their lives. No one is coming back here to save us.” 

Hopeless. Everyone in here was hopeless. 

“I know a person. Or three. They’ll come in here and save us no problem,” Peter informed. 

“Who? Spider-Man? Iron Man? The duo that is commonly spotted around New York? They’re probably busy killing off those creatures. They don’t have time to pause and come save us,” she said.

The boy beside Peter huffed. “They laughed at me for suggesting they might come save us,” he told Peter. 

Did they really think so little of the two? “I know for a fact that if Spider-Man knew we were in here, he would come save us.”

“And what about Iron Man?” he asked.

Peter gave him a small smile. “Well, if Spider-Man knew, so would Iron Man. And they would  _ both  _ come here to get us.” Mostly because where Spider-Man went, Iron Man followed. That’s just how it worked. And Peter often liked to pretend he didn’t know why.

“Do you think we will get out of here?” the boy asked quietly. 

“I do,” Peter said with confidence. 

“You have more hope than the rest of us,” he replied. 

Peter didn’t know how to reply to that. “Someone has to have it,” he finally said. “Or else we would never get out of here.” 

“Do you think Iron Man will save us? Or Spider-Man?” 

Peter pretended to think for a moment. “I think Iron Man will be the hero of the day.” 

The boy’s face lit up. “Really? I’ve never seen him except on TV. It would be so cool to see him in person!” 

“I have a feeling you just might,” Peter told him.

Not long after he said that, an alien came crashing back through the window, this time, having no one in its hand. He growled and clicked at the people trapped behind the desk, causing most of them to press into one another and try to back up as far as it could get away from it. 

Peter angled himself in front of the boy. 

“What do you think it wants?” someone whispered.

“Hush!” someone else snapped.

Peter’s ears picked up the familiar sound of thrusters in the distance, and he grinned widely at the creature. It was over for him now. He could hear one of the repulsors firing up, and he quickly shoved the boy to the ground before the wall near them was blasted open, and the beam slammed directly into the alien, sending him flying across the room.

Iron Man flew threw the hole in the wall, not even bothering to look around before saying, “There better be a good reason why you’re idling in here and not helping the city you’re so obsessed with.” 

Peter knew the comment was directed at him, and he slowly stood up and peaked over the desk, looking at Iron Man. 

“No way!” the little boy said excitedly. “How did you know Iron Man was going to save us!?” 

Iron Man’s head whipped over towards the desk, finding Peter and a bunch of other civilians crammed into a tight circle. 

“Uh, I had a feeling,” Peter lied.

Iron Man looked at the backpack across the room and then back at Peter. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“We can’t get out,” Peter said, and even though he couldn’t actually see Tony’s face, he was sure it was full of confusion, disappointment, and undoubtedly stupidity at Peter’s explanation. 

“What does that mean?” Iron Man asked.

“It means that we -  _ human beings, _ ” Peter stressed, “are  _ stuck  _ behind this superpowered alien slobber and can’t climb over the desk.” 

Iron Man didn’t reply, instead scanning the drool on the top of the desk, getting a reading from Friday. Just as he was about to say something in reply, the alien he blasted earlier let out a loud scream, leaping at Iron Man and sending him down to the ground.

Peter winced at the sound from the alien and from the sound of Tony hitting the floor like that. Neither were pleasant to witness.

The boy next to Peter gasped in surprise.

“Don’t worry, he will get back up,” Peter said to the boy.

“How do you know? What if he’s hurt?” Concern laced his tone.

“He always gets back up,” Peter informed. “Even if he’s hurt.”

Iron Man did just a Peter said and fired the alien off of him, standing back up. “So that’s how it’s going to be.” He fired up another beam and shot it at the creature. All it seemed to do was annoy it.

Similar to . . .

“I bet that’s its family!” Peter blurted. 

Iron Man looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing, uh, never mind.” He had to remember he was Peter Parker. Not Spider-Man. Peter wasn’t fighting the giant alien that was here a few weeks ago - that was Spider-Man. 

It aggravated Peter to no end that he couldn’t  _ help.  _ He had to stand by and watch Iron Man blast the creature with different things, and none of it seemed to do anything but stall it. 

“Can you get us out of here before you destroy this place?” someone in the circle asked. 

“I’m a little busy here!” Iron Man replied, shooting the alien once more. 

“Where’s your friend Spider-Man? Call him and tell him to get us!” someone else shouted.

Peter pressed his lips together and shot a look at Tony. If he did somehow manage to get everyone out of here, Peter could suit up and help fight off the aliens. But how was he going to get this one out of the way and get everyone out before it came back? He needed help, and it didn’t look like he was going to get any at the moment. 

“Kid,” Iron Man said, not even looking Peter’s way. He still kept his focus on the alien ahead, trying to hold it off. “Get ready.” 

“For what?” Peter asked. Should he be concerned? 

Iron Man didn’t explain. Instead, he just fired one more beam at the thing and soared to the side, gripping Peter and placing him near his backpack, going right back to holding the alien at bay. 

“What about us!?” someone screamed. “Help us!” 

“I’m working on it!” Iron Man snapped at her. Then he said to Peter, “Get out of here.” 

Whether he meant literally get out of here or get out to go suit up, Peter wasn’t sure, but there was no way in hell he was just going to run. He grabbed his bag and took off, running quickly from the room.

He ran down the hall which had seen better days, and entered the door closest to him and shut it once he was inside. He unzipped his bag and pulled out his suit, quickly shedding off his school clothes and suiting up. The second he did, Tony was in his ear.

“Kid, I need you come get the rest of these people out of here. This alien won’t go down.” 

As Peter shoved his clothes back into his back and stashed it under a table, he said, “Won’t it seem suspicious if I leave and Spider-Man suddenly shows up?” 

“If anyone thinks twice about it, I’ll handle it,” Tony barked. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He was just tense. Aliens were running throughout the streets outside and he didn’t know how to stop them. Unless he drowned them like the previous one. But these ones were too small and too wild to just throw in the water and hope they stay there.

“If you say so,” Peter said, running back to the room quickly to help the others out from behind the desk. He crawled on the walls once inside the room again, trying to make it so the alien wasn’t focused on him. 

The little boy behind the desk watched him with wide eyes, and Peter wondered if he  _ knew.  _ It wasn’t that hard to connect the dots. 

But Peter didn’t focus on that. Instead, he said, “Sorry I’m late. You guys ready to get out of here?” He didn’t have to wait for the chorus of yes’s before he got to work, lifting everyone and setting them on the other side of the desk. They all ran quickly while Tony kept the alien at bay.

When Peter reached for the little boy who was the last one left, the alien let out a scream Peter had never heard before. It was so loud pitched, it rattled his ears and he felt like they were bleeding. He pressed his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to push past it and get the final kid out from behind the desk, but the pain was too great. “Ugh.”

“Listen to me kid, you need to focus,” Tony said, though his voice sounded far away.

“Too . . . loud,” Peter gasped. “Hurts.” Sometimes it really sucked to have enhanced hearing. 

Tony launched himself at the alien, pinning it to the ground. Maybe hitting it point blank would do something. “I know, kid, I know. But there’s still a civilian who needs help. You need to get him  _ out.”  _

Peter let his hands slide away from his ears, but he felt dizzy as he reached for the boy with outstretched arms. His ears were ringing and he was seeing double, but still somehow was able to grab the boy and pull him up and over the desk, setting him down on the ground. “You . . . need to get out of here,” Peter said to him.

The boy nodded quickly. “Thank you, Spider-Man.”

“My pleasure,” Peter replied, leaning against the wall for support as he watched the kid run off. 

Tony blasted the alien again, right in the chest, and it let out the most gut wrenching sound. Peter slid to the floor, pressing his ears hard. “Ugh, make it stop!” he groaned.

The alien wiggled beneath Tony for a minute and then stopped altogether. The silence was welcoming, despite the white noise that rang in his ears. Still, it was far better than the screeching sound the alien made.

Tony walked over to him, crouching down so he was eye level. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ll survive,” Peter grunted.

“But are you okay?” Tony persisted. 

Peter looked up at him through blurry eyes. “Somewhat. Yeah. No,” Peter finally settled on. “I want to rip my ears off.” 

“Alright well let’s not go for a modern day Van Gogh, yeah?” Tony asked. “We need to get out of here in case its posse knows its dead and comes looking.” He held out an arm for Peter to grab. 

As much as Peter didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t think he could continue to fight. The screeches from aliens were enough to incompaciate him, and if he was out there and they  _ all  _ decided to screech like that . . . He would never be able to hear again. “Mr. Stark?” 

“What’s up, kid?” Tony answered, helping him to his feet. 

“I’m going to be honest. I don’t think I can . . . continue,” Peter admitted. 

Tony stared at him in silence.

“Uh . . . Staring at your Iron Man mask is a little . . . unsettling. Why aren’t you saying anything?” Peter asked. Looking at the poker face on Tony’s suit was almost enough to make him laugh. What was Tony’s  _ real  _ face looking like right now? Was it something similar.

“I’m shocked you admit you can’t go on,” Tony replied. “And I want to say . . . I’m . . . proud of you for admitting when you’re not at your best.” 

Now it was Peter’s turn to be speechless. He was glad the mask covered his face, because even he could feel how red his cheeks were beneath it. Tony was  _ proud  _ of him? He had never said those words out loud, only opting to say things like “good work” and “nice job.” 

It made Peter feel  . . . nice.

“My ears hurt,” he said lamely. “I can barely hear you and you’re directly in them.” 

“When all this nonsense is over, I’ll have someone look at them, okay? Do you think you can make it back to the compound?” Tony asked.

Peter shrugged. “If you keep the aliens away, probably.” 

“I think I can manage that for you,” Tony replied. “And now I know how to stop them.”

Peter cringed at the thought. “I’m telling you, they’re the children of the thing we killed a few weeks ago. They’re basically the same, just tiny.” 

“I can’t decide what’s worse,” Tony said.

“What?” Peter asked.

“The fact that you were right all those weeks ago saying we killed something’s family, or the fact that there are more, tinier versions of the giant thing we killed a few weeks ago.” 

Peter let out a soft snort. “They’re both pretty bad.” 

Tony put one hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You need to go to the compound and get some rest. You seem really worn.” 

“I am,” Peter admitted. “Being kidnapped by an alien creature and being held hostage as a normal civilian, unable to do anything to help, really takes a toll on someone.” 

Tony gave him a look, even though he couldn’t see it from under the mask. “Are you sure it’s not because you’re nearly deaf?”

“Not at all,” Peter said with a wave of his hand.

“Sure, kid. Get home. I’ll meet you there.” He backed away from Peter and flew backwards out the window, ready to kill the rest of the aliens destroying the streets.

This time, for what could be only the third time ever, Peter took Tony’s advice and went back to the compound. 

To home. 

(His second one, anyway.)

~*~ 

“So you mean to tell me, you were on your  _ phone,  _ and you walked right into the middle of a city under attack?” Tony exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?” 

Peter was  _ not  _ expecting Tony to be this mad about him losing his phone. He knew he should have told him he misplaced it. “Yeah?” he squeaked.

“Unbelievable. Tennagers,” Tony muttered, putting his head in his hands.

Peter had gotten his ears checked out by one of the doctors that commonly look at Avengers after a rough mission, and said that it would take time, but his hearing would come back as strong as it once was. And Peter hadn’t been wrong when he thought he felt blood dripping out from his ears. They had bled, just not as much as he thought. 

“Actually, if you think about it, it was kind of your fault,” Peter said.

Tony snapped his head up. “What was that?” 

“I didn’t want the phone in the first place!” Peter explained. “But you made me take it and now look what it’s done. It nearly got me killed.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You were  _ fine.  _ Aside from the whole hearing incident. Do you really think I would let you die?” 

“I’d hope not,” Peter answered. “But it took you long enough to find me.”

“I assumed you would be in the center of the battle! Like you always are.” Tony would never know how Peter always managed to be the first in battle and the first one out. It drove him crazy. “Only when I didn’t hear you, did I track your suit and see you were in some building three blocks away.” 

“Yeah, trapped!” Peter yelled. 

“You lived,” Tony said dismissively. 

“Barely,” Peter muttered. “That kid made it sound like if I touched the slobber, it was instant death.”

“Maybe it was,” Tony replied. “I took a sample for analysis.”

Peter blinked at him. “Uh, why?”

“In the name of science,” Tony explained, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Yeah, okay,” Peter agreed, but whatever. 

“Don’t give me a rough time, Parker. You’re the one who became obsessed with the phone. I never said you had to use all its cool features,” Tony said.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s lost now, so it doesn’t look like I’ll be using any of its features ever again.”

“Hey, that phone is expensive. Too expensive to just be sitting on some street in Queens. You’re going to go find it.” 

Peter gaped at him. “No way!” 

“You’re the one who lost it.”

“So?”

“So? You’re going to go find it, like I just said. Last thing we need is for someone to get a hold of  _ that  _ phone. It’s very special to Peter Parker,” Tony stated.

Yeah, Peter got that much. “I figured it was special to Spider-Man.”

“It’s special to Peter,” Tony enforced. When will the kid learn he isn’t one without the other. “Now are you going to find my thousand dollar phone or not?”

Peter huffed out a sigh. “Fine.” 

“Good.” Tony backed away, ready to head down to his lab to analyze the slobber. “You know where to find me.” 

“I do,” Peter said. “I do.” He left Tony with that, going to search for a phone he never wanted or needed in the first place. 

But unbeknownst to him, Tony had already picked it up earlier. When he tried to call Peter and his AI informed him that Peter was nowhere near the phone. And for a street in Queens, that was unlikely. He was just going to let this be a lesson in responsibility. 

But Tony knew Peter was in trouble longer than the kid thought. It just took him longer to find his kid than what he wanted to admit. To himself or to Peter. 


	9. Loss of Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds trouble and loses his spider powers (temporarily) and Tony assures him he will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hii, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little more . . . loosely structured than the others, but it still makes sense and is more like specific moments focused on in one plot. You'll see! But I really love the whole opening scene here.
> 
> ALSO, my fic ideas are waning, so if ANY of you have any suggestions for what you'd like to see, I would be more than happy to take a look at them :)

Peter was so dead.

If Tony didn’t kill him, then it would be his aunt. And if neither of them were going to do it, then the guy closing on on him would for sure. And, honestly, if Peter was going to die from any of those three people, he would much rather it not be some stranger on a roof to one of the highest buildings in the city. 

“What are you going to do now, Spider-Thing?” the man asked, grinning wickedly at Peter. “The suit may hide your identity, but it doesn’t give you your powers, does it?” 

_ Oh man oh man oh man.  _

Yeah, Peter was  _ so  _ dead. 

“If you keep backing up, eventually you’ll fall off the building, and then what? You going to catch yourself and crawl back up to the top?”

Normally, Peter would just use his webshooters for something like that. Fire a web, launch into the air, ease into the landing. The usual. But he was currently out of web fluid, which was his own stupid mistake. He should have been carrying more. And he shouldn’t have waited so long to go to Tony’s lab and make more. In fact, that’s where he was on his way to, before this goon showed up and ruined everything.

“You’re pretty quiet,” the man observed. “Are you too scared to backtalk now, knowing you don’t have any real power to stop me?” 

When Peter’s hand met the edge of the building, he stopped crawling backwards. If the man wanted to pick him up and throw him over, he very well could. Peter wouldn’t be able to fight him off. Not like this. 

It didn’t take a whole lot to scare Peter, but right now, he was completely terrified. Before he was Spider-Man, he never found trouble like this. The most trouble he had was Flash at school, and even then, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. But going face to face with someone who wants to wreak havoc for fun without having the power to stop him? 

That was new for Peter Parker.

“Why don’t you call for help?” the man asked. “Go on, I’ll give you time to hope someone will save you.” 

Peter knew for a fact that the one person he would call  _ would  _ save him, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell his AI, Karen, to dial his number. How did he explain to Tony Stark - Iron Man - that he was careless enough to get stabbed with a strange needle and injected with some murky liquid that caused his spider powers to vanish? It was not only embarrassing, but terrifying as well. Peter had never thought that one day, his spider half would vanish and he would become just Peter Parker again.

“Unless,” the man drawled out. “You don’t  _ want  _ help. Is that it, Spidey? Too ashamed to admit your failure? Where’s you good ole pal, Iron Man? I hear he’s at your beck and call.” 

Tony would answer if Peter called him of course, but he was  _ not  _ at his beck and call. Tony did what he wanted to, when he felt like it. He didn’t have to come save Peter’s ass if he didn’t want to, but Peter knew if he dialed his number and asked for help, he would do it anyway. And a part of Peter wondered if this wasn’t all some elaborate trap for Tony. Why else would the man be inquiring about him? If all he wanted to do was cause some harm to one person in front of him?

“Go on, call,” the man sneered. “Tell him to need help. Get him down here.”

“No,” Peter grunted. God, he forgot how much it hurt being . . . human. His whole body ached and he felt like he was dying from the inside out. At least now he knew that injuries sustained as Spider-Man, lingered over to the human side as well. The altered DNA just made it far less painful, apparently. 

“No?” the man echoed. “Why not?” He was mocking Peter now. 

“I don’t . . . need him,” he said. It was a complete and utter lie. Peter did need him. He needed him so badly, but he refused to give in to the man’s wants. He was that stubborn. 

And stupid.

“If you don’t get him down here,” the man threatened, “then I will.” He stepped towards Peter and gripped the front of his suit, hauling him off the ground. “And I’ll make sure  _ everyone  _ in this city sees you plummet to the street below.” 

Still, Peter didn’t want to call him. But now that he was all but three seconds away from being sent to his death, he had Karen dial Tony’s number. 

On the second ring, Tony answered. “Where are you at, kid? You told me you were coming by to make more web fluid.”

Peter did his best to keep the wobble out of his voice, but he knew he failed miserably as he said, “Mr. Stark.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Tony demanded. He could hear the shakiness of Peter’s voice and  _ knew  _ something wasn’t right. In fact, he had began to grow suspicious when the kid didn’t show up to the compound at the time he said he was going to. But Peter had never been the type to be on time - ever - so Tony let it slide for at least twenty minutes.

“I, uh . . .” Peter began nervously. “Need help,” he finished lamely. He closed his eyes and sagged in defeat at giving the man what he wanted.

The man holding on to Peter smiled in victory. “That’s it, Spidey. Why don’t you tell him what happened? Or do you want to wait for him to get here and see for himself?” 

Neither of those options sounded appealing, but luckily Peter didn’t have to pick either of them since Tony interrupted.

“Who the hell is that?” Tony asked through the comms. 

“I never . . . caught a name,” Peter grunted.

“It’s Helix,” the man spit in Peter’s face. “That’s what you can call me.”

Helix? Like a DNA helix? Peter wanted to laugh, but he felt like if he did, his ribs would stab through his stomach and kill him. They seriously hurt. But that didn’t stop him from saying, “Dude, that’s really lame.”

The man - Helix - dropped Peter onto the ground and kicked him in the stomach. “And Spider-Man is any better? You’re not even a man. You’re a boy at best.” He kicked Peter twice more. “When your hero comes, he won’t have time to save you when I drop you from this building.”

Helix reached down and picked Peter up again, this time setting him on the edge of the building. Half of his body dangled above the street far below, but there was nothing Peter could do to climb back over the ledge. His powers were nonexistent, and even as he pressed his feet to the side of the building, they didn’t stick.

He wasn’t Spider-Man anymore. He was just dressed up as someone who wanted to be.

The thought stabbed Peter right in the chest. If he was no longer Spider-Man, then who was he? He still carried the name Peter Parker, but who - besides Ned and May - cared about him? Would Tony even still like him? 

“I’m almost there, kid, hang on,” Tony’s voice said lowly in his ear. Peter nearly forgot he had called him. He was even more shocked to hear that he was still there. 

Helix looked at Peter. “I love seeing all the fight drain from you. It would be even better if . . .” Helix reached down and yanked the mask right off Peter’s face, seeing a broken and bloodied boy dangle in his grasp. The man had a laugh that would put The Joker to shame. “This is even better! I knew you weren’t a man. You’re a  _ kid.  _ A Spider-Kid!” 

The nickname made Peter want to hurl.

“I see now why Iron Man is so attached to you,” Helix said. “You’re only a baby. Irresponsible. In need of protecting. After all, if he can’t protect the city in which he lives, at least he can protect you, right?” 

Peter wanted to shout back at him, but he had nothing to say. 

“Well, I’ve got news for him,” Helix announced with a smile on his face. He leaned in close to Peter’s ear and whispered, “He can’t save you either.” 

Helix let go of Peter’s arms and watched as the kid plummeted down the side of the building, towards the earth below. 

Peter didn’t scream. He didn’t shout or say goodbyes that would get lost with the wind and go unheard by May or Ned or . . .

His body must have taken a toll then, or he must have been too terrified to even stay conscious for what happened next, because as he looked up at the sky he was facing as he free fell, he could see Helix laughing from the rooftop of the building, and that was, unfortunately, the last thing he saw before the world went black, and he thought he joined the night sky that stretched out above him.

~*~

When Peter went to open his eyes, he found it to be a lot harder than he expected it to. It was like tiny weights were sitting on his eyelids, preventing them from opening to look around. So instead of putting in the effort to open them, he let his arm trail up his body and to his face, where his fingers met hard plastic that he was eager to get off his skin.

A hand gripped gently but firmly around Peter’s wrist, followed by Tony Stark saying, “Leave it on, kid.” 

Peter let out a heavy sigh, but let Tony guide his arm back to his side on the bed. 

“Can you open your eyes?” Tony asked.

“Dunno,” Peter mumbled. He wasn’t sure anyone even heard him. He barely heard himself or even registered that he said something.

“You should try to open them,” Tony encouraged. “They’ve been closed for a while.” 

Peter wanted to ask how long, but since that seemed to take more effort than opening his eyes, he opted for staying silent. It took him a few tries but he finally managed to crack them open. He expected to be blinded by harsh, white lights, but everything was rather blurry and easygoing on his eyes.

A figure leaned over Peter’s face, though he could barely make out who it was. He tried to squint to see better, but his vision never cleared. It was like . . . “Glasses,” Peter croaked.

“What?” Tony’s asked.

“I need . . . glasses,” Peter breathed out. That was when the events all came back to him, and he realized his powers hadn’t come back. He didn’t know how long it had been since Helix stabbed him with the syringe full of shady looking fluid, but it was clear that whatever it was, hadn’t worn off. If it was even going to.

“Boss,” Friday’s voice spoke out. “It appears that Mr. Parker used to wear glasses before he was bitten by the spider. The powers improved his vision tenfold, but since they are no longer present, he is back to the way he used to be.” 

Peter groaned at that and had the strong urge to cry. 

“Don’t worry about it, Pete,” Tony comforted. “I’ll get you some glasses.”

And for some reason, Peter couldn’t help the laugh that came out of his throat. “As if I’m mad about not having glasses.” The more he thought about it, the funnier it became, and he couldn’t stop laughing until his vision suddenly got a lot clearer, and he could see Tony standing above him, looking at him concerned.

“How are those?” Tony asked, pulling his hands away from Peter’s face. 

Peter looked around briefly before answering, “Better than the pair I used to own.”

“They should be,” Tony informed. “I made them to adjust to any type of eyesight.”

“You make glasses?” Peter asked, puzzled. “Uh, why?” 

Tony shrugged. “I get bored.” 

Even so, Peter didn’t expect Tony to just make  _ glasses.  _ He had endless amounts of tools and technology and he decided to make eyeglasses? 

After their short exchange, Tony noticed the way Peter’s slightly happy attitude, faded back into the sad state he was once in. Which was understandable. Tony couldn’t relate to what Peter was going through, considering he was just human and used a suit full of tech when battling villains. Underneath it all,  _ he  _ was still human. Peter also had a suit, but it’s not what made him Spider-Man. It was his altered DNA that made him Spider-Man. The sticking on walls, super hearing, enhanced strength. All that great stuff. 

Now he was . . . The Peter Parker he showed to his classmates.

Peter reached up once again and tore the oxygen mask off his face. 

“I thought I said to leave that on,” Tony chided.

“I heard you,” Peter answered, tossing it aside.

Tony let out a sigh. “Ah, so here’s the part where you get all moody and want to yell at me.”

Peter looked over at Tony. “I am not moody.”

“But you want to yell at me,” Tony shot back.

“I want to yell in general,” Peter admitted. “But not at you. Why would I even yell at you?” He wasn’t mad at Tony. He didn’t do anything.

Tony arched a brow. “I’m sure you can come up with something.”

“Do you want me to?” Peter asked, itching around the IV he just noticed was in his arm. God, when was the last time he had one of these?

“Not right now,” Tony answered. “What I want is for you to be normal and address the elephant in the room.”

_ Be normal.  _ Peter wasn’t even sure what normal for him was anymore. He was wearing glasses! That was normal once before, then it became not normal, and then  _ that  _ was normal to not have to wear glasses. But now he had to wear them again, which didn’t feel normal at all. 

Peter didn’t know he was crying until he felt one tear roll down his cheek and onto the pillow. 

“Aw, kid, don’t cry,” Tony said. He had never actually seen Peter cry, and now that he was, he wished he could take back the past two days. He never dealt with crying people - unless it was Pepper - but even that was a rarity. Peter was so young and  . . . Not allowed to cry. “It will be fine.” 

Peter looked over at Tony. “Will it?” he sniffled. He looked down at the needle in his arm. “If it was fine, I wouldn’t need this because I would already be healed.” Peter then reached up and fiddled with his glasses. “I also wouldn’t need these to  _ see.”  _

Tony didn’t want to lie to the kid and say his powers would come back, because he didn’t even know that. He had the best scientist and doctors looking after Peter currently, and no one had been able to get back to him on what was injected into Peter’s system. However, powers or no, he could still tell Peter, in confidence, “You’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure about that?” Peter asked. If there was anything he needed to hear, it would be that he  _ would  _ be fine. And if anyone could assure him of that, it was Tony Stark.

“Positive,” Tony answered. “Just give it some time. Right now, you need to recover. Also, it concerns me you won’t talk about  _ it.”  _

Peter glanced away from Tony. “I’m not sure I want to.” He was still embarrassed by this whole thing. This was worse than the time he let someone stab him in the leg. How had he not learned to keep his enemy far enough away from him at all times? Especially after that first incident? 

“Why?” Half the time it was hard to get Peter to  _ not  _ talk. But now he didn’t  _ want  _ to? 

“It’s . . . not my greatest moment,” Peter admitted. It hurt to even say it aloud.

Tony shook his head. “Kid, if I never talked about my non-greatest moments, I wouldn’t have anything to talk about at all.”

That earned a small laugh from Peter. “I thought you said everything you do is great?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “To the rest of the world,” he then added. “But between you and me and also Happy and Pepper, we know most of the shit I do is not great.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

Tony shot him a look. “You’re not supposed to agree with me.” 

Peter shrugged. “You tell me I’m not supposed to do a lot of things, but I still do.”

“That’s also true,” Tony replied. He sat down on the chair next to Peter’s bed, resting his chin on his fist. If Peter wasn’t going to start the conversation first, then it looked like Tony would. “You really scared me, kid.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, so he chose silence.

“I saw him drop you,” Tony informed. “And as much as I wanted to go after him and throw  _ him  _ off the building, I didn’t. Because even though I didn’t know your powers were gone at the time, I knew something was wrong when you didn’t even try to stop yourself from falling.” Just recalling the information made Tony’s heart quicken. “I didn’t know how badly he hurt you or if you just . . . gave up. So I caught you before you hit the pavement and had Friday run a scan. You just fell unconscious, luckily.”

_ Gave up.  _ Peter wanted to say he never gave up, but when he  _ felt  _ his powers vanish, just like that, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fight or escape or do anything, really. He didn’t even ask Karen for advice. He had been so shocked and . . .  _ sad,  _ he didn’t know what to do. Tony could tell him all day long that Spider-Man didn’t exist without Peter Parker and vice versa, but it was no secret that both people were absolutely different. Spider-Man would not have froze up like that. He would have known what to do.

“I wanted to go after him,” Tony continued in Peter’s silence. “But I wasn’t just going to leave you blacked out on the street. So I rushed you back here. Called in a medical team. They had to treat you like they would a normal human, since you had no healing factor. Hence the IV and oxygen mask.” 

Peter subconsciously touched the IV in his arm. “At least I don’t burn through pain meds, I guess,” Peter joked weakly. 

“That is one positive thing,” Tony agreed. 

“But it hardly outweighs the negatives,” Peter said, frowning once more.

“Hey,” Tony piped up. “You aren’t allowed to be Negative Nancy here, okay? Only I am.”

Peter’s brows rose. “Why only you?” 

“Because I was here first. The position is already filled,” Tony informed.

“A shame,” Peter argued. 

“Indeed,” Tony agreed.

Shortly after he said that, the door across the room opened and in came one of the scientists Tony had talked to earlier when she took samples from Peter. “Hello,” the woman greeted. She looked over at Peter and smiled. “Mr. Parker. Glad to see you’re awake.”

This was either about to go very, very good, or very, very bad. Tony stood up and walked over to her. “I take it you have news?”

“I do,” she answered.

Tony leaned in and quietly said, “If it’s bad, could we not do this here?” He wanted Peter to have a chance to recover first before he learned anything that may be . . . upsetting. 

“Just because I don’t have super hearing, doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re talking about me,” Peter said.

Tony couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “For all you know, I was saying something risque for her ears only.” 

Peter made a disgusted face, while the scientist blushed deeply. “Now I know what Ms. Potts means when she asks what’s wrong with you.”

“A question the world nor I will ever know,” Tony replied.

The scientist cleared her throat. “I have good news, Mr. Stark,” she said, handing Tony a clipboard. “These are the test results we got from the drug that was injected into Mr. Parker’s system.” 

Tony looked over it, seeing a bunch of gibberish. He may be a genius, but science wasn’t his strong suit. Or anything anatomy or DNA related. “The kid could probably understand this, but not me,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “So, please explain in simpler terms.”

“Peter will be fine,” she said. “His, um, spider side is only suppressed. I estimate that his powers will come back within the week.” 

Tony hadn’t seen the kid’s face light up this brightly since he brought home that dog and Tony told him it could stay for one night.

“So I’m still Spider-Man?” Peter asked excitedly.

“You never weren’t,” the scientist said to him. “Just think of it as . . . Spider-Man is taking a vacation. Unfortunately, that means for the next few days, you’ll still heal like a human, so please do take it easy.”

Peter was practically bouncing in excitement. “That’s awesome.” 

“I told you it would be fine, kid,” Tony said. “Am I ever wrong?”

Peter nodded his head. “Quite a bit.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Forget I ever asked you anything.” He turned back towards the scientist. “I can expect the same behavior as all the other times?”

“Of course, Mr. Stark. I was never here,” she answered.

“Fantastic. Expect a bonus on your next check,” he said.

The scientist bid her farewells and left the room then.

“What was that about?” Peter asked.

Tony turned back towards him, giving him a look. “I thought you didn’t have super hearing?”

“Yeah, I’m not deaf,” Peter reminded him. “I can still hear.” 

“A blessing and a curse,” Tony muttered jokingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter said. “Hmm?”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “You need to rest, kid. You’re only human after all.” 

That earned a scoff from Peter. “It’s still too soon.” 

“I’m sure for you, it always will be.” Tony pulled out his phone and began to scroll through it. “Go to bed. Or nap. Or do something that involves rest.”

Peter arched a brow. “Sitting here isn’t enough?”

“Not even close,” Tony said. “Trust me.”

“Whatever you say.” Peter took off his glasses and slid back down in his bed, reaching over to set his glasses on the bedside table, when he missed it completely, and heard the glasses fall to the ground and promptly break.

“Did you really just break my state of the art glasses?” Tony asked in disbelief. 

“Did you really make state of the art glasses that weren’t indestructible?” Peter shot back. 

“You owe me two thousand dollars,” Tony said. “Those aren’t cheap.” 

Peter sputtered. “Those were two thousand dollars!? And you let me touch them?” 

Tony barked out a laugh. “Calm down, kid. It’s no big deal. If I was worried about you breaking my things, I wouldn’t have given you a multimillion dollar Spider-Man suit.”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “It’s how much!?”

“Uh . . .” It just occurred to Tony that Peter never knew how much that suit he wore everyday costs. “Just a couple hundred bucks.” 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Peter groaned. “Look how many times I’ve ruined it!”

“And look how many times I’ve fixed it,” Tony countered. “It’s fine, Pete. I promise.”

Peter pulled the thin sheet over the rest of his body. “I can’t believe I ruin things that cost more than this city.”

Tony choked on his own spit. “It’s not worth more than this city. Now hush and go to bed. I’ll find you another pair of glasses to wear for the rest of the week.” He got up and went over to the door, dimming the lights. “If you need anything, you know what to do.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter yawned, letting his eyes slip closed.

Tony lingered for a few more moments, thinking about how close he was to losing Peter the other night. The kid needed to learn better hand to hand combat skills if he couldn’t rely on his webshooters and AI to help him out. 

And luckily for him, he knew just the person to ask to help Peter get better. He only hoped she would agree.


	10. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony had Peter train with Natasha, and can't help but feel like it was the worst idea he's ever had, and Peter doesn't understand why. Not until Tony kicks everyone from the room and explains to him why he's so on edge each time someone - even Natasha - lays a hand on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kind of turned out sappier than I intended and I most definitely meant to have Natasha in here more with some ass kicking but the character's decided it wasn't quite time for that. So I hope you guys still enjoy it anyway :)

What had Tony been  _ thinking?  _ This had to have been possibly the worst idea he’s ever had, and he’s had a lot of bad ones. 

Asking Natasha Romanov to teach Peter Parker some hand to hand combat skills was his worst idea. His second worst idea was choosing to be in the same room as the two during training. 

Ninety percent of his time was spent sitting on the bench against the far wall, biting his knuckles nervously while his leg bounced quickly. 

Tony’s best, and close friend, Colonel Rhodes, joined him on the bench one day, unexpectedly. He had known Peter Parker hung out around the compound a lot, and though Tony never confirmed his suspicions, Rhodey had a feeling he knew who the kid was. It wasn’t hard to match Peter’s voice to a familiar vigilante’s a couple years back.

Rhodey looked over at Tony, unable to stop the grin that appeared on his face. “You look like you’re seconds away from combusting.” 

Tony didn’t even spare him a glance. He kept his eyes trained on Natasha and Peter. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Rhodey asked with a laugh. “What’s got your panties in a twist today?” He had a pretty good idea it had something to do with the kid across the room fighting with one of the nations most intimidating spies. 

This time, Tony shot his friend a glare. “What do you want, Rhodes?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. He knew Tony meant no malice in his words. “I was stopping by to say hello. Friday mentioned you were in here, so here I came. But now I see you’re busy trying to stay seated on this bench while that kid gets beat up.”

Tony winced at Rhodey’s words. Peter wasn’t getting beat up - okay, no, he  _ was  _ getting beat up, but he was only getting hit when he failed to protect himself the way Natasha instructed. Of course, this was all a learning process, but still seeing that woman land a punch or a kick directly onto Peter hurt to witness. 

“Why do you watch if you get so . . . high strung about it?” Rhodey asked.

“To make sure it doesn’t get out of hand,” Tony answered quickly.

Rhodey snorted. “You think Natasha will kill him the second you leave? Come on, Tones, you know she wouldn’t do that to him.” 

Now, Tony looked over at Rhodey curiously. “Why do you say that?” Not that he thought Natasha would flat out kill him. She knew who Peter was, and knew he was on their side, so there was no need to . . . take him out, as she might say. But as far as Tony knew, Rhodey didn’t know, exactly, who Peter was, so now he was curious as to why Rhodey thought something like that. After all, Peter should just be some random kid to him.

“He hangs out here a lot,” Rhodey said smoothly. “It’s obvious he’s with you, and if he’s with you, Nat won’t hurt him. Not too badly, anyway.” 

The answer was easy enough to accept, so Tony let it slide this time. “I don’t want him hurt at all,” Tony admitted. Seeing him powerless in the Medbay a few days ago was agonizing enough. He was just glad that it wasn’t permanent and he got his powers back within four days. Those four days were hell, partly because all Peter did was whine about not having his spidey powers. But at least Tony was there to remind him that  _ he  _ never had any powers, and when  _ he  _ got injured, he had to suffer and let his body heal the human way.

“He’s training with The Black Widow,” Rhodey reminded. “He’s bound to get a few bruises here and there.” 

Just as Rhodey said that, Natasha landed a swift kick right to Peter’s side that he failed to block. The twist on Peter’s face was evidence enough that it hurt more than he wanted to admit, and tony shot up off the bench.

Rhodey looked up at him, waiting to see what he had to say about that. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Tony said. They had been at it for about forty-five minutes now, but Peter already looked worse for wear. Tony briefly wondered if Peter’s spidey powers hadn’t fully come back yet. 

Peter frowned at the man. “It’s barely even been an hour,” he argued. 

Tony didn’t miss the way Peter still clutched his side, even if the kid wasn’t aware of it himself. “Yeah, well, everyone needs a break sometime.”

Rhodey snickered from his place on the bench, which earned him a glare from Tony. 

“I used to train for five straight hours before even getting a bottle of water,” Natasha said, picking at something under her nails. 

“Well, we aren’t training Peter here to be a super spy, are we? This is just . . . a refresher course in hand to hand combat.” 

Peter laughed and rolled his eyes. “How is it a refresher course if I never had an original course?” 

Tony chose to ignore the fact that the kid had never been properly taught how to fight. Everything he did was instinct and what he’s seen in movies. Maybe  _ that’s  _ why trouble found him so easily. He didn’t know how to counteract it.  “Doesn’t matter. It’s still break time.”

“How do you expect Peter to learn anything if you call for a break every time he’s starting to catch on?” Natasha asked. “Sessions will only take longer and he won’t be very good at defending himself if he only gets bits and pieces at a time.” 

“He’s good as it is,” Tony said.

Natasha arched a brow. “Then why did you ask me to train him?” 

Peter looked between the two and then at Rhodey in the far back. He wasn’t too familiar with him, but knew who he was. Colonel Rhodes, or Iron Patriot - War Machine - whatever (but he could agree the last one sounded the best and most bad ass). 

Rhodey gave him a slight shrug and a smile, as if to say,  _ nothing I can do here.  _

“Why do you talk like I’m not here?” Peter asked, feigning annoyance. 

Tony looked at him. “Even if you were ten rooms away, you would still be listening, so I figured it doesn’t really matter anymore.” 

Peter scoffed. “How good do you think my hearing is? Ten rooms is pushing it. I’d say I can hear from at least seven.” 

“I’m not arguing about how good your hearing is,” Tony said, getting back on topic. “I’m arguing about Natasha needing to take it easier on you.” 

“Oh my god,” Peter groaned. “What kind of hero would I be if I couldn’t take a few hits to the torso? I’m fine, Mr. Stark. She doesn’t hurt me that badly.” 

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as Tony shot daggers at Natasha. “She shouldn't be hurting you at all.”

“Be realistic, Tony,” Natasha snapped. “You act like you never got bruised up when you used to box with Happy.”

“Yeah,  _ Tony,”  _ Peter said mockingly. 

“You,” Tony said, pointing at Peter, “be quiet.” He also didn’t miss the fact that Peter calling him Tony - albeit mockingly - was the first time he’s called him anything other than “sir” or “Mr. Stark.” He wondered if Peter would start calling him by his first name anytime soon. Not that it mattered.

“You do need to be realistic, Tones,” Rhodey piped up from his spot on the bench. “Training of any kind is rigorous and not usually painless. He’s going to get hurt some, but as long as he can manage, I think continuing training will be fine.” 

Peter wasn’t sure when Rhodey got so involved in this, but he was thankful for it. He was training with The Black Widow! This was too exciting to just . . . stop. And they had only trained three times ever. That was hardly enough to learn something of value. And Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t want more time hanging out with Black Widow. She was pretty cool. 

And he could make Ned totally jealous. 

“He’s got more endurance than you,” Natasha said. “He can last a lot longer.”

Tony raised both his brows. “You saying I can’t last long?”

“Not without your suit, no,” she said.

Tony was just about to challenge her when Peter interrupted and said, “Okay, okay, I’ll chill out.” He shook his head in disagreement. “If it worries you that much, I’ll stop. Though, I don’t know why you even suggested this in the first place if you didn’t want it to happen.”

There were very few times in Tony’s life where the kid listened to him, and it shocked him beyond belief to hear the kid side with him now - for  _ Tony’s  _ benefit. “Listen, I just  . . .” He looked at Natasha and Rhodey, not really wanting to admit anything . . .  _ heartfelt  _ with them present. He had enough of a hard time admitting anything to Peter. 

He turned towards the two others, asking, “Can we get some privacy?” 

Peter groaned loudly. “Ugh, are you going to yell at me?” He looked between Rhodey and Natasha. “Please don’t subject me to one of his lectures.”

“Why are you being dramatic?” Tony chided. “Stop that.” 

Rhodey snickered and clasped Peter on the shoulder. “Trust me, kid, if it’s a lecture you’re about to get, I don’t want to be present for that, either.”

“Am I not allowed to speak without people hating me for it?” Tony asked.

“It’s not so much you speaking as it is . . . demanding,” Rhodey said.

“Demanding? I don’t demand,” Tony argued.

Natasha looked at him in disbelief. “Friday records everything in this building, doesn’t she? Maybe we should ask her to play back some audio.” 

Tony frowned. “That won’t be necessary. Friday, listen to no one but me,” he instructed. 

“Sure thing, Boss,” the AI replied.

Tony stuck out his tongue at Natasha. 

“Real mature, Tony,” she retorted, leaving the room with an eye roll.

Rhodey glanced at Peter once more before leaving as well. But not before he could give a reassuring, “Good luck.” 

“God, you people act like I’m going to blast him with a repulsor. I just want to talk to him without any of you present.” Although, it made Tony wonder how everyone actually saw him. Did he really lecture that much? 

“No offence, Mr. Stark,” Peter said once Rhodey left the room, “but your ‘private’ conversations with me usually don’t end up being about anything good.” 

Tony walked over to the bench and plopped down. “I don’t scold you that much, kid. Do I?” 

Peter walked over and joined Tony on the bench. “Not so much anymore, no.” Really the last time he remembered being scolded harshly for anything was the ferry incident and the lake incident. Other than that, most of Tony’s “talking to’s” were made up of “let this be a lesson to you” or something along those lines. He never really yelled. He just . . . sternly said what he meant. 

“I don’t want to be that guy who’s always on your case,” Tony said, glancing around the room. They had cleared all the weights and heavy machines to make space in the middle of the floor with mats. It looked like a fighting ring, just without the ropes. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re always on my case,” Peter teased with a smile. “But that’s okay. Someone has to keep me in line, right?” 

Tony couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m glad you see it my way,” he said. Tony nudged Peter’s shoulder with his own. “But in all seriousness, I’m always on your case because . . . I think I care too much about you to just . . .  _ let  _ you get hurt.”

Peter glanced over at him, raising one brow and smiling. “You  _ think?”  _

“Okay, I know,” Tony relented. It was just hard for him to say anything of the sort out loud. Especially to someone so . . .  _ young.  _ Peter was only a kid. He was still in school nine months out of the year, and hanging out with his friends on weekends and doing nerdy things. In a way, Tony felt like Peter was his own kid - part time. When May was busy, Tony stepped up to the plate. Or, rather, he stepped up on the Spider-Man side of things. That was more his speed than giving advice on girls and bullies. And Lord knows Tony doesn’t need to give Peter advice on girls.

“I’m fine, you know,” Peter said. “In training. It’s not like Natasha beats me while I’m down and breaks my ribs.”

Tony furrowed his brows. “That’s not what it looks like from my perspective.”

Peter let out a soft snort. “Then maybe you should look at it from mine. I mean . . . I don’t want to sound mean or disrespectful, Mr. Stark, but you’re just, um, human. I’m a little more than human. I can take more than you can - without the Iron Man suit,” he added. “I’m strong. Like, stronger than I probably should be. And if I get bruised, they heal within hours. And broken bones-”

“I get it, kid,” Tony said, cutting him off with a hand raise. “I know how your spidey side works. I’m just saying, even though I  _ know  _ you can physically handle more than I can in my current state, it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m watching you get beat up. Or hurt.” There had been far too many times where Peter was beneath the hands of someone and Tony couldn’t do anything to stop it. Not right away, at least. 

“You get hurt all the time,” Peter pointed out. “I’ve seen it. Stopped it. I just think . . . I think that  _ maybe  _ . . .” He had no idea how to word what he wanted to say. He was reverting back to his old ways around Tony, talking in stutterers and a jumbled mess. “Ugh.”

Tony patted Peter on the shoulder encouragingly. “Use your words.”

Peter shot him a look. “I’m doing my best.”

“Really? Because all I hear is ‘uh, you, uh, Mr. Stark are, uh, so great and, uh-”

Peter shoved him lightly. “I didn’t say any of those things.”

“Not to my face,” Tony agreed.

With an eye roll, Peter stood up off the bench. “What I was  _ trying  _ to say, was that it’s always nice to . . . have someone in your corner. You’re in mine and I’m in yours.” 

“You should find another person’s corner, kid. My plans are usually shit and rarely get support,” Tony informed.

“Which is exactly why you need me there,” Peter concluded. “If you’re going to let everyone else in this world hate you, at least let one person in that doesn’t.” 

For someone so young, the kid was really wise. Tony wondered where he learned that from. “You mean Pepper?” 

Leave it to him to make a serious moment not last forever.

“Sure. Pepper,” Peter said, although he knew Tony wasn’t being one hundred percent serious. 

Tony stood up and walked over to Peter. “I’m only kidding, Pete,” he said quietly. “I think there are only three people in my life who have never fully hated me, and you’re one of them. I will never understand for the life of me  _ why,  _ but it’s nice having you around.”

Peter couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. He never thought he would hear Tony Stark - of all people - say something so . . .  _ sappy.  _ Usually this kind of sap was reserved for his Aunt May. Nevertheless, Peter was glad to have someone like Tony in his life. He hadn’t felt quite whole since his uncle passed away. He had May to make it better, but there was something that Tony gave Peter that May could not. 

And, no, it wasn’t a fancy Spider-Man suit or high tech cell phones, either.

It was . . . something else entirely. 

Tony threw his arm around Peter’s shoulders and led him out of the room. “Happy told me once that you were a good kid.”

“Happy? Really?” Peter asked in disbelief. He didn’t know that man was capable of anything other than annoyance. 

“Yes, really,” Tony said with a laugh. “And . . . I agreed with him. After you left. Thinking that the room full of reporters was a test.”

Peter stopped mid-stride. “What do you mean,  _ thinking it was a test?  _ It was!”

Tony glanced away. “Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

“Was it not?” Peter asked. “Oh my God, did I really do something that stupid!?”

Tony laughed. “It was actually really smart, kid. And I’m glad you made that decision. You’re too young to be pestered by the media.”

Still, Peter groaned. “I can’t believe I thought that was a test.”

“I can’t believe you thought that, either.” When Peter shot him a look, Tony continued to say, “I mean, why would I, Tony Stark, do something so outrageous like for a  _ test?  _ Making that new Spider-Man suit? That took a lot of work. I didn’t do it for fun.” Okay, maybe he had a  _ little  _ fun while making it, but that’s not why he created it in the first place. 

“Don’t make me think about this for the rest of my life,” Peter whined.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only remind you about it once a month. How’s that?” Tony asked.

Peter grunted. “Now I see why people don’t like you.” 

It was a light hearted joke, and Tony still laughed anyway. The kid was a wise ass, but so was he. And maybe that’s why they got along so well. 

Or maybe it wasn’t. 

But only Tony thought that. 


	11. Career Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's career day at school. Just when Peter thought this boring day couldn't get any worse . . . it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me longer to publish than I realize! But I've worked for the past seven days and it's hard to find time to write when you work all day :( I don't know when the next chapter will be, as I'm going on vacation this upcoming week, so if there's not one next week, there probably will be the week after! Don't worry, I'm not done here yet :)

There had been a lot of days where Peter wished the clock on the walls during school would tick by quicker. Today was no exception. 

“What do you think the assembly in the gym is about?” Ned asked him over their lunch break. He took a bite of his sandwich, waiting for Peter’s answer. 

Peter shrugged. “There’s no telling. Something boring, I’m sure.” He shoved his food around on his lunch tray, not having much of an appetite to eat anything right now. School food was typically gross, which is why he mostly always went to Mr. Delmar's after school to get a quick bite. 

“This whole day is boring,” Ned said. “Why did the school think we needed a career day? Isn’t this something reserved for middle schools? We should be looking at college’s. Not jobs.” 

Only to himself, Peter admitted that looking at colleges was equally as boring. In fact, Peter hadn’t thought about applying to any in quite some time. Ever since he developed his spidey powers, things had changed for him and he grew more distracted about life. He quit looking into schools after graduation. He had no idea what job he even wanted anymore - which is probably why career day at his school, right now, would be extremely beneficial for him -  _ if  _ he actually participated like he was supposed to.

But walking around the halls and talking to different adults about their jobs just seemed so . . .  _ boring.  _ If he wanted to listen to someone go on and on about their work and how successful they are, he would just go to the Avengers Compound and hang out with Tony for an hour. 

“It’s probably just some big round up of all the jobs they had here today,” Ned mused, getting back on topic. “So, really we can still wander around the school and do nothing until two o’clock when they herd us all into the gym for a recap of the day.” 

At least there was one good thing about the school having a career day. All classes were nonexistent and everyone just got to walk around the school and either look, or pretend to look, at the different booths they set up for jobs. Teachers and staff were still out monitoring kids, but it’s not like it was rowdy enough for them to actually rain on everyone’s parade and send the kids back to class. 

“You just assume it’s a recap of the day,” Peter told his friend. “What if they, like, call on you and ask you to tell everyone about the best booth here today? What will you say then?” 

Ned gave him a look. “If I get called on to speak in front of my hundreds of classmates without approval, they’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

Peter snorted. “What lawyers?” 

“The ones your dad, Tony Stark, would so kindly let me borrow,” Ned informed.

“He’s not my dad,” Peter said with an eyeroll. “And don’t say his name so loudly. I’m not in the mood for dirty looks today.” Even though the field trip to SI about a month ago didn’t quite  _ prove  _ he worked for Tony Stark, it did show his classmates one thing, and it was that Tony Stark did know Peter Parker. And vice versa. “Also,” Peter continued, “he would not let you use his lawyers for something like that.” 

“Maybe not me,” Ned agreed, “but if you said it was for  _ you-” _

_ “Ned,”  _ Peter grumbled. “That situation isn’t even going to happen.”

Ned shrugged, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t know why you try to ignore the fact that Tony Stark is basically your dad and gives you anything you want. If that were anyone else, he would probably tell them to fu-”

The sound of the bell cut off Ned’s words, and Peter was thankful for the distraction. Talking about Tony at school was far from his favorite pastime. 

The two boys followed the rest of the crowd in the cafeteria and threw away their meals, heading back out into the halls to continue “looking” at other job opportunities.

“Now you have me paranoid,” Ned admitted as they walked down the hall. 

“About what?” Peter laughed.

“That they’re going to ask me what I thought of the jobs here. Now we have to actually go look interested in one and get some information in case I’m quizzed,” Ned told him.

Peter shot him a look. “Just tell them you’re interested at SI or something. After that field trip we had, no one would blame you.” 

“Peter, that was forever ago,” Ned complained. “Then they’d accuse me of not giving anything else a chance.”

As much as Peter loved his friend, he couldn’t help but wonder what went through his head. “Do you always think this deeply about stuff? It’s not that big of a deal.” However, it was amusing that Ned was so paranoid. “And honestly, who cares? We still have another couple years in this school. There’s still plenty of time to look for jobs.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Ned reluctantly agreed. “But what are we going to do for the next hour and a half until the assembly?” 

“Pretend like we care about our future?” Peter supplied. 

“We do,” Ned said. “Just not . . . at this moment.” 

Peter laughed. “If anything, we can just pull a line Mr. Stark likes to use on me all the time.”

Ned looked over at him, curious. “What line?”

“Some nonsense about living now since I’m a kid and we don’t get very long to be a kid so I need to enjoy it for what it’s worth and bla, bla, bla.” Deep down, Peter knew Tony was right, but it was hard to just be a kid when you’ve got superpowers that no one else has. Peter couldn’t really “relate” to all the others anymore. Not after hanging out with Avengers after school and sometimes on weekends. And he didn’t really get to cower in fear when the city was under attack. Instead, he got to fight right in the middle of it. 

Sometimes, that was a huge downside to having powers.

“That man is truly a genius,” Ned muttered. “I can use that line on anything.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Good luck actually getting it to work.”

“It probably will on my parents,” Ned informed.

“Yeah, your mom is a real softie,” Peter agreed. 

Ned scoffed. “Don’t tell her that. She will argue all day long that she’s not.”

That sounded an awful lot like someone else Peter knew. But he would never tell him that. 

~*~

Those two hours had to have been the longest two hours of Peter’s life, so he thought. 

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it didn’t help that he and Ned were forced to look at three booths when their teacher came by and asked them what they had looked at. When they had said nothing, they both got the disappointed look, and the teacher escorted them personally and made sure they looked at some jobs possibilities.  

Two hours later, Peter and Ned were ushered into the gym with the other students, cramming themselves together on the bleachers. 

“I hope this isn’t long,” Ned half shouted to Peter. Having a bunch on kids congregated in once place made the noise volumes go up quite a bit.

“Why’s that?” Peter asked, though he didn’t disagree. He was ready to go home. Or patrol. Or literally do anything else.

“These bleachers are not comfortable to sit on,” Ned replied. 

He wasn’t wrong. The plastic hurt to sit on after a long period of time. The assembly couldn’t late more than an hour, however, since it was already two o’clock and the bell rang at three. 

Peter looked around the gym floor, noting the projector on a cart, which was aptly pointed at a large projection screen. There was also a long, plastic table set to the side with a blue table cloth draped over it to make it look fancier than it really was. 

Just what was the assembly about? 

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” the principal’s voice rang out. He was speaking into a microphone, which undoubtedly casted his voice louder than everyone else’s, silencing them immediately. “Great!” he continued when everyone was quiet. “Before I announce what will be happening here shortly, I want to hear how everyone thought career day was!” 

The principal was met with very few enthusiastic “woos.” In fact, none of them sounded the least bit excited about it. Peter was glad he and Ned weren’t the only ones bored with this day.

“It got you out of normal class, so you guys should at least be grateful for that,” the principal said.

At that statement, more people perked up and applauded - some even cheered.

“Of course that’s what you cheer for,” the principal said a bit sourly. 

“They’re a bunch of teens, don’t expect any less,” a new voice said into a microphone, and it was one that Peter recognized all too well. 

Tony Stark walked into the gym from a side door, and the bleachers full of teens applauded and cheered loudly - all except for Peter and Ned. Peter, who was practically sitting on the floor, trying to remain invisible, and Ned, who was laughing loudly. 

“This isn’t funny!” Peter shouted at his best friend over the roaring crowd. 

“Yes, it is,” Ned assured, catching his breath. 

Peter rolled his eyes. Was Tony’s only mission lately to embarrass the hell out of him? The field trip to SI was bad enough, but to have Tony  _ here  _ at his  _ school  _ was something else entirely. The kids knew Tony knew Peter, but now this was only hitting the nail on the head. Why else would Tony Stark come to Midtown High? He was a busy man, and it was highly unlikely that he would just agree to come and give a short presentation unless he  _ wanted  _ to. Even so, Peter found it a little odd that Tony  _ wanted  _ to come to a high school and give a presentation. After all, all the man did was complain about teenagers and their attitudes. 

Tony - much like he did every time more than four sets of eyes were on him - waved to all the teens with a smile plastered on his face. He was soaking up the attention, and Peter briefly wondered how long it had been since he was given any. 

“Alright, alright,” Tony said, waving his hand in a downward motion to quiet the gym. “After that entrance, I’m guessing I don’t have to introduce myself.”

Everyone laughed, to which Peter made a face. What was so funny about that?

Ned nudged Peter on the arm. “Do you think he does this on purpose?” 

There wasn’t a doubt in Peter’s mind. “Probably.” 

“Why?” Ned then asked.

“He thinks it’s funny,” Peter answered simply. “And it earns him good publicity points,” he added.

At this, Ned arched a brow. “Publicity points?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Ms. Potts uses that term a lot. But basically it goes something like this: Mr. Stark does good things in public, to the public, where he’s being watched, which will get him publicity,” he explained. “The more good things he does, the better his resume looks or whatever. And, no, I don’t know what resume he’s filling out and what for. I don’t tend to stick around for those boring meetings.” 

A look of understanding dawned on Ned’s face. “So  _ that’s  _ why you’re always going on about how boring Tony Stark is.” Ned let out a laugh. “That is real boring.”

Peter snorted. Of course it was. Meetings weren’t always super exciting and Avenger related. Really, Peter wasn’t required to attend any meeting - even if it related to The Avengers. Tony often gave him a free pass, opting to fill him in later and shorten a two hour meeting into a thirty second talk in terms Peter could understand. 

“ . . . but as I’m sure you all know, Stark Industries is one of the biggest industries in the country,” Tony was saying, as Peter decided to tune back in. “So of course there are hundreds, if not thousands, of job opportunities, especially for the youth in a few years.” Tony walked over to the projector and turned it on. “I’ll show you guys some of Stark Industries newest creations after this quick video.”

Peter couldn’t help the groan that escaped his throat. It was loud enough to cause a few head turns and dirty looks, to which he promptly responded with a red face. 

“And I assure you,” Tony added, as if he heard Peter’s groan from  the gymnasium floor, “it’s not boring. In fact, someone your age made it. So if it’s boring, then it’s on him.”

Great. Peter remembered making this video. He actually didn’t think Tony would ever use it. Honestly, Peter just thought Tony had him make it to get him out of his hair for a few hours. Tony had told him - after Peter complained of being bored in the lab - that since he was an intern, he could do intern work, and make an introduction video to Stark Industries that could be used before presentations and lectures. Tony had said the other interns did it, so truthfully Peter should have done it too, if he was being fair.

“But I don’t do the same work as your other interns,” Peter had argued. 

“No, but you’re going to start if you don’t quit crying,” Tony replied. 

Peter then fired back that he wasn’t crying, and that he was only bored of working on his suit or webshooters. So then, of course, Tony sent him to the adjacent room and made him make a short introduction video to Stark Industries. It took Peter four hours to make, and the video was only a little over three minutes. He didn’t even think it was that good - he just did it to appease Tony at the time.

“I assume he means you,” Ned asked, bringing Peter back to the present.

“Unfortunately,” Peter muttered. Where there any other teens Tony interacted with? 

Peter’s gaze followed Tony as he walked over to the table with the blue cloth, and he wondered just what tony planned on showing them. 

It was as if Tony could sense Peter watching him, and his eyes snapped up and landed on the boy in the bleachers. A small smirk appeared on his lips and he quickly looked away. 

_ This should be good,  _ Peter thought.

“What do you think he brought?” Ned asked.

“I have no clue,” Peter answered honestly. With Tony, there was no telling. But since this was a school, he couldn’t imagine it being anything too wild. 

At least, he hoped.

The video was over before Peter knew it, and he was glad he didn’t put his name after it like he had some of his other . . . video projects. The last thing he wanted was  _ that  _ attention. 

“Interested yet?” Tony asked, closing out the video. “If not, maybe some of the gadgets I brought today will help you decide.” He lifted up a briefcase from behind the table and set it on the cloth, undoing the latches on it.

Everyone was practically leaning off the edge of the bleachers, trying to get a good look at what Tony Stark was about to pull out from the briefcase.

“You don’t think it’s a weapon, do you?” Ned asked.

Peter whipped his head towards his friend. “You really think Mr. Stark would bring a weapon into a school?” 

Ned shrugged. “He’s Tony Stark,” he said, as if that were the only answer he needed to hear. 

“Actually,” Tony said, eyes scanning the crowd, “I think I need a volunteer for this.” 

At the sound of  _ volunteer,  _ Peter had never slid off his seat and hid behind the kids in front of him so quickly. He looked up at Ned and hissed, “Get down!”

“Even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” Ned began, “you can barely squeeze yourself down there and stay hidden. You think I can do the same or want to put in the effort to do the same?”  

Peter frowned. “Don’t let him see you then.” Tony would know Peter was sitting with Ned. He was his only friend after all.

Everyone in the crowd was eagerly raising their hands and shouting at Tony to pick them, but to everyone’s surprise - but not to Peter’s - Tony said, “How about you in the middle who’s trying so hard to stay hidden?” 

All the kids turned towards Peter like they knew exactly who Tony was talking about. One girl even muttered, “Of course Tony would pick someone he already knows. He’s biased.” 

Someone else said, “Tony Stark doesn’t know Parker. How could he?” 

“Apparently the internship is real,” another muttered.

“He probably doesn’t trust anyone with his tech,” a boy said. “That stuff is worth millions. Would you want some stranger fiddling with it?”

It sounded like at least someone had some sense here. Tony had always been very touchy on who got to touch and use his tech that wasn’t available for just anyone to buy. Still, Peter had no idea why Tony even trusted him half of the time. Peter lost or broke anything he touched that was labeled “Stark Industries.” Truthfully, Peter probably owed the man a few million dollars - maybe more - for all the things he’s broke. Like the glasses. Or the phone he lost. 

“Come on, the school day doesn’t last forever,” Tony said, staring directly through the crowd of kids and at Peter’s curled form.

Peter looked up at Ned, shooting daggers at him. “I told you not to be seen.”

“I don’t even think he saw me, dude,” Ned explained. “He probably knew where you were the whole time. Doesn’t he always know where you are?”

Yes. So really, it was foolish for Peter to think that he could hide from Tony Stark. 

Reluctantly, Peter stood up, finding it relieving to let his legs stretch out. Sitting curled up between the bleachers and the floor was not recommended. He stepped over the other kids in the row and stumbled out onto the steps, slowly making his way down. Peter could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he walked, which he hated to no end. 

“Thank you for joining me, Mr. Parker,” Tony said. 

If anyone else had their doubts about Tony picking someone specific, they were sure clear now. 

Peter grumbled something in response. At least the crowd couldn’t hear  _ him.  _ And there was no way in hell he would talk into a microphone like Tony. 

“Come here,” Tony instructed. His voice wasn’t cast through the microphone, however. He must has turned it off.

“Why do you do this?” Peter asked, standing beside Tony behind the table. He looked into the briefcase, seeing a pair of glasses - similar to the ones Peter broke just last week, and something else he didn’t recognize.

“Do what?” Tony asked innocently. “Invent stuff? Because I’m a genius and I-”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Peter said with a frown. Standing here, arguing with Tony, was almost enough to make Peter forget about the entire student body watching him. “And you know,” Peter added, “that I hate talking in front of people.” 

Tony glanced up at the crowd before them. “Good thing I won’t make you talk, then.”

“Then you should also know,” Peter tried, “that I don’t like attention like this.” 

“I do know that,” Tony informed him. “However, the only way you will get used to it is if you actually do more of it, hence me calling on you to come ‘help’ me.”

Peter stared at him. “I thought you did this to annoy me.”

“That too,” Tony agreed. 

Unbelievable. Actually, no, this is exactly the kind of thing Tony would do.

The man in question reached up and turned his microphone back on to address the restless crowd of teens. “So I’ve brought a couple of things today to show you,” Tony began. “The first being a new, innovative pair of eyeglasses.”

At the mention of glasses, he seemed to lose the crowd. They must have been expecting more, then. 

“I know, it’s not explosive enough for you youth,” Tony said. “But imagine never having to wear contacts again. Or go to the Optometrist to do countless eye tests every few years to adjust your prescriptions. With these glasses, you will always be able to see clearly, every time they are worn. You will automatically have twenty-twenty vision.” 

Now kids ooed and awed at the pair of dainty glasses. 

“Put these on and tell everyone how clear it looks,” he said to Peter, handing him the glasses. “I will let a few of you see for yourself. Of course, it works best without contacts already in.” 

Peter took the glasses from Tony’s hands, slipping them on his face. “My vision is better than twenty-twenty  _ without  _ these on,” Peter muttered so only Tony could hear.

Tony slapped him on the back firmly. “Pretend,” Tony answered. “And don’t break these ones,” he said louder for everyone in the room. “They cost a few thousand dollars.” 

A few people choked at the price. Or the fact that Peter had broken a pair, he wasn’t sure. 

“So no one in this room will be able to afford them, then,” Peter said.

“If they choose to work for SI,” Tony said, giving Peter a look, “they will be able to afford five of these.” He saw a few faces light up, and he was sure he could have the whole crowd eager to apply today, but that wasn’t going to happen. “However, not just anyone can come work for SI,” he explained. “It takes a certain level of intellect and creativity to even get  _ in  _ to the program. After all, we only want what’s best of the best. We don’t want to put crummy products with my name on it into the world. That makes me look bad.”

The glasses on Peter’s face made him feel wonky. His vision was already better than any humans, and having something on his face that was supposed to improve vision, only made his worse due to the fact that he wasn’t normal. He longed to take them off, up until Tony started speaking again. 

“How does everything look?” he asked Peter. 

Peter’s eyes snapped over to him. “You said I wouldn’t have to talk.”

“I lied,” Tony said smoothly. “Don’t give me that look. Are you shocked?”

“No,” Peter answered. “I’m betrayed.” 

Tony tapped his chin in thought. “Betrayed. I like that.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Some Avenger you are.”  He looked around the room, purposely not making eye contact with anyone else. “It looks HD,” he said, though it wasn’t loud enough for people to hear in the back.

“HD is one word for it, yes,” Tony agreed. “Let the front row try them out.” 

Peter took the glasses off his face, letting out a sigh of relief as his vision went back to normal. Well, what was normal for him, anyway. He walked over to the front row and handed them to a girl, who took them excitedly. 

“Be careful with them,” Peter whispered to her. “If you break them, he will never let it go.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Please,” she scoffed. “I’m not a clutz like you, Parker. I won’t break them.” 

A clutz. Right. Maybe before, but now . . . He only broke the glasses because he  had reverted back to the  _ old  _ Peter Parker. The one who used to wear glasses and trip over his own feet when he walked because he didn’t have amazing powers to keep him balanced. 

Peter walked away from the front row. If any of them broke the glasses . . . well, he  _ did  _ warn them. 

Back by Tony, Peter peered into the briefcase on the table. “What  _ is  _ that?” 

“A laser light show,” Tony answered.

Peter laughed. “No, really. What is that?” 

Tony glanced over at him. “You’ll see.”

That was ominous. “Oookay,” Peter drawled. 

“Go get my glasses back. I don’t want greasy fingerprints all over them,” Tony said. 

“Why? You plan on wearing them?” Peter joked. The only glasses Tony wore were of the smart variety. Meaning, if it didn’t have an AI in it, he wasn’t wearing them.

“No. Teenagers have gross hands. I don’t want my state of the art glasses covered in grime,” Tony explained. 

“You let me touch them,” Peter reminded. “And I’m a teen.” 

“Yes, but you’re  _ one  _ teen that I  _ know.  _ And you’re clean enough.” 

Peter gave him a look. “Wow, thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“Go get my glasses,” Tony instructed. “I want to move on to this next thing.”

He sounded really excited about it, so Peter did as he said and went and retrieved the glasses back from the kids. The lenses were a little smudged when he got them back, and he was sure Tony would frown and grunt at that, so he quickly used his shirt to clean them off, but unfortunately, this didn’t go unnoticed by Tony. 

“Did you just use your  _ shirt  _ to clean off my thousand dollar glasses?” Tony asked.

“Well, I didn’t see a silk cloth just laying about to use, now did I?” Peter fired back. 

Tony shook his head. “Everyday, another one of my hairs goes gray.”

“That’s because you’re reaching, like, Steve Rogers level of old,” Peter joked.

Tony glared at him. “Don’t think I’ll forget what you just said.” 

“One could dream,” Peter muttered to himself. Tony rarely forgot anything - well, anything that wasn’t related to a meeting of sorts, because, honestly, who would  _ want  _ to remember stuff like that? 

“Like what you saw?” Tony asked, addressing the crowd. 

Some people answered, but a majority stayed quiet. 

“No worries,” Tony said, unaffected by howo unimpressed most people had been by the glasses. “I have something else that will probably wow you more.” He reached into the case and pulled out a small, metal-like cylinder. It had holes of all kinds in it, spread out in different spots. There didn’t appear to be a pattern. 

Tony held it in his hands, observing it. “I know you guys are young, active, wild,” he added. “You like to go out on weekends. Party. Trust me, I know what that’s like.”

Boy, did he. 

“But what is a party without music? And . . .” The lights to the gym cut off then, followed by Tony’s voice saying, “A light show.”

The cylinder lit up brightly, with neon lights of all colors beaming through the holes. The crowd roared and cheered loudly, the lights from the cylinder bright enough to illuminate the whole place. It was almost like they were in a rave - minus the glow in the dark paint. The thing even blared music.

“What the hell,” Peter breathed to himself.

“I told you it was a laser light show,” Tony said, peering down at him. “Having trust issues, are we?” 

“After you stabbed me in the back a minute ago? Yeah,” Peter said with a frown, though he didn’t really mean it. No, he didn’t like talking to large quantities of people, but it’s not like Tony made him stand there and give them a speech. He said one sentence and that was it. And if he was being honest, it wasn’t that bad. Probably because no one was listening to him and actually cared. 

“You survived,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. 

“I usually do,” Peter agreed. 

Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “If there was a chance of something killing you, do you think I would make you do it?” 

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know,” he sang. “Having a teenager out of your hair would probably make it go back to brown.”

Tony shoved him lightly. “Our next lesson is going to be on respect and why you should have some for Tony Stark.”

Peter raised a brow. “Didn’t we have a conversation about referring to yourself in the third person? Or was that just me? Because I remember saying it was weird-”

“That’s enough,” Tony said, cutting him off. “Ass hole.” 

Peter laughed loudly. “Do you need me anymore? Or can I go back to my friend?” 

“You can go,” Tony said, dropping his hand from Peter’s shoulder. “Thank you for your assistance.” 

“I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome,” Peter answered, heading back to the bleachers to find Ned.

“This is awesome!” someone shouted. “Parker! Tell us how you got that internship!”

“Yeah, Peter, tell us!” another said.

Peter was bombarded by people, all wanting to know how Peter got an internship with  _ the  _ Tony Stark. The only answer he could say was, “Luck.” And truthfully, it was. Even if he was Spider-Man, it was still pure luck that Tony Stark came to his home one day to talk to him. 

However, it was because of Spider-Man that that happened at all. But he couldn’t exactly tell his classmates that, now could he?

Well, he could. But what was the fun in that?

~*~

From the gym floor, Tony Stark looked up at all the kids hounding Peter about Stark Industries and the internship he had. Of course, the kid could tell them whatever he wanted, but he had a feeling Peter would give them nothing. 

But that didn’t matter. Tony did what he came here to do, and it wasn’t to give Midtown High a presentation for fun. Maybe, if the kid would stop being so stubborn, he could have more friends than the one kid named Ned. 

If he chose not to, however, that was fine, too.


	12. Spider-Man & The Hulk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man meets The Hulk and let's just say the results were unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is okay. Not my best but I still hope you guys enjoy! I based it off [this Tumblr text post](https://angelintrenchcoat.tumblr.com/post/170570791081/hulk-calls-thor-tiny-avenger-can-imagine-when) and this is for Anomy in the comments who asked if I could include Bruce Banner :)

Peter knew it had been a mistake to spend the night at the compound.

Come eight a.m., Tony was throwing open the curtains in Peter’s room, shouting a little too brightly, “Rise and Shine!”

“Nooo,” Peter groaned, pulling the covers over his head. 

“Yes,” Tony countered, reaching to pull the covers back off Peter, but the boy had a firm grip on them. And, well, with his spider strength, Tony wouldn’t be able to pull them down without his suit. However . . .  Tony went to the end of the bed and threw the covers off in the opposite direction, so Peter’s legs and torso were exposed to the cool air. “Get up.”

“It’s the weekend,” Peter whined. “It’s illegal to wake up before ten.” 

“Funny, I’ve never heard of that law,” Tony replied.

“It was just passed last night,” Peter said. “After you went to bed.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “How convenient.” 

“It really is,” Peter yawned. “Wild.”

“Get up,” Tony repeated. “We have things to do today and  _ I  _ have things to do today, and there’s only so many hours in a day to get them done. The sooner we start, the better.”

Again, Peter groaned, but nevertheless, he tossed the covers off and rolled out of bed. His brows were furrowed as he rubbed his eyes, and Tony knew he was going to be a cheerful one today.

“I would offer you coffee,” Tony said, “but I don’t think  _ you  _ need it.” The kid tended to be hyper enough without the caffeine. He couldn’t imagine how Peter would be with some. 

“I just want some cereal,” Peter said, stumbling his way to the bathroom. He really should have stretched first. 

Tony snorted. “Cereal? Seriously?”

Peter paused in the doorway. “What’s wrong with cereal?” 

“Nothing,” Tony answered. “Just . . . do you know where you are? You could have literally anything for breakfast, and you want cereal?” 

“Yeah?” Peter said, confused. “Just some Corn Flakes.”

“Corn Flakes!?” Tony said with a loud laugh. “That has to be the most boring cereal in the entire world. Why in the hell do you want  _ Corn Flakes?”  _

Peter raised one brow. “Because I like Corn Flakes? And you have no room to talk, you think coffee is breakfast.”

“You forgot about lunch and dinner,” Tony added. “Coffee is for all times of the day.” 

“Yeah, if you’re a resident in a nursing home, maybe,” Peter fired back.

Tony’s jaw went slack. “That was rude.”

Peter’s gaze fell to the floor. “Yeah, it was. Sorry.” 

“But that was a good one,” Tony then said, followed by a few claps. “I’ll remember that. I need to write that down. Friday, make a note of that.”

“Will do, Boss,” Friday - Tony’s AI - answered.

Peter shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“You have five,” Tony said before strolling out of Peter’s room, shutting the door behind him. 

Something Tony would never admit (to anyone, ever) was that the kid may have a mouth on him, but Tony loved it. There was finally someone to talk back to him instead of just giving him disapproving looks at his snide remarks or sarcastic jokes. He was glad Peter had the guts to fire words right back at Tony. 

But like he said: he would never admit that to anyone ever.

(He would also never admit that he kept a log of  _ all  _ the kid’s greatest jokes.)

~*~

As Peter ate his cereal in the kitchen one floor down, Tony stood behind the counter, sipping his coffee and scrolling through his phone. However, he wasn’t distracted by it enough to not notice that Peter was currently on his fourth bowl of cereal. 

He looked over his glasses at the kid questionably. “Tell me why you chose the least filling breakfast meal again?”

Peter shrugged. “I wanted Corn Flakes.”

“I see that.” Apparently nothing was going to keep the kid from his cravings. “Well, when you get done with that family size box, come to the lab, okay?”

“Sure,” Peter said, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Tony looked away, eyebrows raised. He headed towards the elevator and pressed the button to go to his lab. When the doors slid opened and he stepped out, he paused and looked down the hall by the front of the lab door. “Uh.” 

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce Banner greeted, offering him a smile. “It’s been a while.”

“I’ll say,” Tony replied, continuing his movements and giving Bruce a quick hug. “Where have you been?”  He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Bruce, let alone talked to him.

“Just here and there,” Bruce answered vaguely. 

Tony wasn’t going to push. He had his secrets, so Bruce could have his. As long as the man was okay and doing well, that was enough for Tony. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was in the neighborhood,” Bruce began, “and I thought I would say hello. It’s . . . Like you said. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” Tony agreed. “You can stay for as long as you want, you know that, right? You’ve still got a room here.” All the Avengers did. Even if Tony didn’t get along with them half the time. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Bruce said. 

Oh, how nice it was to hear someone call him by his first name. All he ever heard was “Stark” or “Boss” or “Sir.” And most of the time, it wasn’t in a pleasant away. Unless it was the kid. He was just doing out of politeness. Oh, God,  _ the kid.  _ “Oh, Bruce, before you decide to stay here, you should know that-”

Tony never got to finish, as the sound of the elevator dinged and the doors slid opened, followed by a kid making some sort of inhuman noise, with his jaw slack and eyes wide. 

“Kid-”

“That’s Bruce Banner,” Peter said, still gaping like a fish. “Oh my God.”

“Yes, that is,” Tony confirmed. “And you-”

“Who is  _ he?”  _ Bruce asked, giving Tony a  _ what the fuck  _ look.

Tony frowned. Was anyone going to let him finish. “If you let me speak, I was going to tell you that-”

“Oh man, Tony. Do you have a kid? Don’t tell me you have a kid you didn’t know about for-” he paused, looking over Peter - “sixteen years.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, that’s Peter Parker. He interns here.” Like always, it was the kid’s decision as to whether or not he wanted to tell Bruce more about himself. Like  _ who  _ he was, exactly. “I was trying to say he will probably be here . . .  a lot, so don’t be surprised to see a kid hanging around. But you never let me get that far.” 

Bruce looked between Peter and Tony as if he didn’t quite believe what Tony was saying. “You don’t look alike,” Bruce decided. 

“Because we aren’t related,” Tony said. He was getting real tired of arguing with people about if Peter was his long lost son or something. 

“Okay,” Bruce said. Though, he was still skeptical about the kid. Something wasn’t right here, but he let it go. For now.

“Anyway,” Tony said with a huge sigh, “would you like to join us, Bruce? We were just heading into the lab to start working.” Tony walked by Bruce and punched in the passcode to unlock the door. 

“What are you working on?” Bruce asked. It didn’t really matter what it was, he was simply curious. 

They three of them entered the lab, Peter still staring at Bruce like he was a work of art at a museum. Tony wanted to tell him to quit staring, but then he figured the kid would turn into a stuttering mess, and he had been doing so good not reverting back to that. Even if he did still talk to Steve and Natasha with a bunch of stutters. Although, he was getting better with Natasha. Probably because of the training they had done. 

“We are actually working on a new suit for a certain vigilante,” Tony answered. 

Bruce raised one brow. “I didn’t know you kept tabs on vigilantes. Let alone gave them equipment to  _ keep being _ vigilantes.” 

“I keep my eye on all of them in case they need to be roped in,” Tony explained. “And I only supply  _ one  _ vigilante with things, thank you very much.” 

“Which one?” Bruce asked.

Tony didn’t expect Bruce to know much about the vigilantes around the city - or states - but he told him anyway. “Spider-Man.” 

“Spider-Man,” Bruce repeated. 

“Yes,” Tony confirmed. 

“I guess I should have known,” Bruce said, mostly to himself. 

At this, Tony was surprised. “Why’s that?” He spared a glance at Peter, who looked rather nervous at the moment. 

“Well, where there’s one, there’s usually the other. I don’t watch much TV or keep up with the news, but usually if there’s . . . Spider-Man, Iron Man is close behind.” 

Damn. Were they really spotted that much? “Oh,” Tony said. 

“I didn’t know you got on a personal level with the vigilantes, Tony,” Bruce said. He sat down in one of the barstools, picking up a pen and fiddling with it. “That’s unlike you.” 

“Well, like we stated earlier, it’s been a while.” What was Bruce trying to get at?

“It’s also unlike you to take in interns yourself,”Bruce added, looking over at Peter, who was looking anywhere but towards them. 

“Okay?” Tony looked at him, waiting for more. 

Bruce smiled warmly. “You’ve gone soft.”

“I have not,” Tony scoffed.

“You have. The questions is: why?” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? Do you want to help us work on this suit or not?” He pressed a button, revealing a newer looking Spider-Man suit, similar to one of Tony’s many Iron Man suits. 

“Sure, Tony. What do you want me to do?” Bruce asked.

Tony walked up to the suit, taking off a piece on the wrist of the right arm. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to look at this webshooter. I’m trying to decide if I want to build the webshooters into the fingers, or keep them on the wrist as a separate attachment.” 

“Why not both?” Bruce suggested. “You can keep this one.” He held up the detachable webshooter. “And make this the main one, and build ones in the fingers as backup. I’m guessing this isn’t an unlimited supply. Does it need charged or something before it can work?”

“It needs more fluid,” Peter said quietly from his seat in the back.

“What was that?” Bruce asked, turning to face the kid. “I didn’t hear.”

Peter cleared his throat. “It’s, um, web fluid,” he explained. “A mixture of elements that creates web-like fluid. It’s a lot stronger and more durable than actual spiderwebs.” 

Tony was surprised the kid wasn’t stuttering. However, he was talking in a much lower voice than usual. It wasn’t until he noticed that particular quality that he wondered if the kid was . . .  _ afraid  _ of Bruce. Well, not of  _ Bruce  _ but Bruce’s alter ego. 

“I’d say so,” Bruce said. “A human can hang from the webs in these.” He looked at the gadget more closely, trying to get a look at the vial of fluid tucked inside. “It’s genius.”

“It really is,” Tony agreed. 

“Did you create it?” Bruce asked Tony. 

Tony shook his head. “Spider-Man did.”

Bruce looked at it in amazement. “Who is this guy, Tony? He has to be near your level of intellect to create something like this.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter’s cheeks flare red. “He  _ is  _ really smart, there’s no doubt about that.” 

“Do you know who he is?” Bruce asked bluntly. 

“I do,” Tony said. He didn’t want to lie to the guy. “However, I won’t be telling you, as it’s not my secret to tell.” 

Bruce nodded his head. “Understandable. Do you know what I would give to have people not know I was also the Hulk?” He set down the webshooter and looked over at Peter. “Which, by the way, thank you for not . . . looking so alarmed to be around me.”

“Alarmed?” Peter laughed nervously. “I’m not alarmed. Just . . . you’re Bruce Banner,” Peter said.

Ah, here it comes. The part where the kid doesn’t stop chattering. 

“Yes, I am,” Bruce said with a laugh.

“He’s a nerd,” Tony explained. “Having you here is sending him into shock.” 

“Makes sense why he’s hanging out with you, then,” Bruce replied with a smile. “I’m still confused as to why  _ you  _ are hanging out with him, though. Not in a bad way,” he quickly said. “I just mean-”

Tony raised a hand, cutting him off. “I know what you mean. It will all make sense one day.”

Bruce looked at him skeptically. “Will it?”

Tony shrugged. “Hopefully.” 

Suddenly, the emergency alarms blared in the compound, sending Tony on high alert. On impulse, he looked over at Peter, who winced at the shrill sound of the alarms. 

“What is that?” Bruce asked, pressing his hands over his ears. 

“There’s an emergency,” Tony answered. “Friday, show me.” 

In the center of the room, a large hologram popped up, showing a view of downtown. Small creatures - which looked an awful lot like robots - were destroying things and knocking people down. 

Tony let out a sigh. “Aren’t there other major cities to attack?”

“We should get down there,” Bruce said.

Tony looked back at Peter, who was drumming his fingers on the table. He could tell the kid was itching to grab his suit and take off down there, but with Bruce here, things weren’t that easy. Not unless he wanted to probably give away his identity. 

Tony looked back at Bruce. “You’re going?” 

“The city is under attack. Why wouldn’t I?” Bruce asked.

“No offence,” Tony began, “but sometimes the Big Guy causes more damage than the things we’re dealing with.” 

Bruce frowned. “He’s been doing better,” he argued. “He won’t destroy anything but the aliens, I promise.”

“So he’s coming out?” Peter asked, both brows raised.

The two men turned to face him, but it was Bruce who said, “Yes, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. The Hulk only harms enemies.”

“That’s good,” Peter said, voice cracking. He looked over at Tony. “Um, the city won’t wait forever.” He jerked his head at the hologram. “You should go.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Right.” He totally expected to see Peter pop up shortly after Iron Man and Hulk did. Just not as Peter. And Tony knew better than to try to convince Peter to sit this one out. He’s never succeeded before and most definitely wouldn’t now. Especially for something so . . . lame as drones attacking the city. 

“You head out Bruce,” Tony said to the other man. “I need to grab my other suit.”

“Okay, I’ll see you shortly.” Bruce quickly nodded to Peter before exiting the lab and jogging down the hall.

Tony faced Peter. “I can expect Spider-Man to show up?” He didn’t know why he even asked it as a question.

“Uh, yeah.”

Tony sighed. “Okay, fine. Just listen to me on this one thing, kid. Do not go near Hulk when he’s out there. You hear me? Sometimes he’s fine but other times . . . not so much. And Big guy doesn’t know  _ you.  _ If you’re caught alone and not by me if he sees you, he might not know how to take it.” 

“I’m not afraid of the Hulk,” Peter informed Tony. “But I will listen to you in the event he decides he wants to smash more than just drones.”

“You’re going to listen to me?” Tony asked with shock.

“Yeah, unless you don’t leave in the next ten seconds and get down there.” He looked at the hologram. “They seem to be multiplying.” 

Tony looked back at the projected image. The kid was right. It  _ does  _ look like they’re multiplying. “Alright. Suit up, kid. I’ll see you shortly.” Tony called his suit to him, which took under ten seconds to complete dressing him. “And don’t forget what I said.” He engaged his thrusters and shot out the window that had opened when he called the suit to him.

Peter shook his head. As if he would forget what Tony said. And if he were being honest with himself, getting mixed up with Hulk didn’t sound too fun. Even if Peter did find it cool. 

It took him a few minutes to suit up, but when he did, he wasted no time swinging to the scene of the crime downtown. Peter spotted Tony blasting the drones in the air, and he looked around the streets for Hulk, not finding him.

_ Odd,  _ Peter thought to himself.  _ How can you not see a huge green guy smashing shit?  _

“What’s the status on these things?” Peter asked his AI. But it wasn’t his AI who replied - it was Tony. 

“These drones are serious, kid,” Tony informed him. “Really strong. Tough to take out. And they shoot electric beams so don’t get zapped.” 

“I take it you found that out the hard way?” Peter asked.

“Unfortunately,” Tony answered. “Hurts like a bitch.” 

Peter scoffed. “If I can’t swear, neither can you.” He swung between buildings, deciding he would be best suited for ground pursuit since Tony had control of the skies.

“Excuse me? I’m an adult. You are not. Words like that shouldn’t be coming out of your mouth.” Tony fired another beam at one of the drones.

“I’m only a kid,” Peter said innocently. “I pick up words from those older and wiser than me.” 

Tony rolled his eyes to himself. “Don’t be a wise ass. And where is Hulk?” Tony briefly scanned the ground for any sign of him, coming up empty. 

“Maybe he got lost,” Peter suggested. 

“How would he just get lost?” Tony asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Peter defended. “I don’t know everything. That’s your department.” Peter fired a web at one of the drones on the ground, pinning it to the street. For a second, he thought the thing was actually going to break free, putting a new definition to they’re “really strong” like Tony had previously informed. But the thing never managed to get out of Peter’s webs. 

“I don’t know everything,” Tony argued.

“You know all the answers to my questions, so that counts as knowing everything,” Peter countered.

Tony crashed into one of the drones, sending it flying. “Yeah,  _ your  _ questions, which are simple questions.” It’s not like the kid was asking him to explain how the universe was created in detail. Most of the time it was silly stuff or math questions. 

“No offense, Mr, Stark, but I think asking where Hulk is at is simple enough.”

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” Tony said. “No more being an ass. Get rid of these drones and then we’ll talk.” He sent another one flying into the ground. 

Peter fired his webs at the drones, pinning them to various surfaces. He wasn’t sure how to get them to stop completely, but his webs would only last about two hours before they could break free. Maybe a little less because they’re so strong. 

“And where the hell is-” Tony began to say, until he got the answer to his question halfway through.

Hulk came bursting through the streets, crushing one of the cars parked by the meters. 

Tony quickly looked for the kid, hoping he was nowhere near that, and let out a small sigh when he saw him one street over. He was doing good, pinning the drones with his webs, but even Tony knew that wasn’t going to last forever. “Friday, how to we shut these things down?” 

“It looks like they all run off of a main power source,” Friday supplied. “They can’t be shut off individually, only destroyed.” 

It would take far too long to blast every single one of these drones. “Can you locate the main power source?” 

“Scanning the area now,” Friday answered.

On the ground, Peter rounded the corner to one street over, coming face to face with one of the drones. It caught him off guard, and the robot was able to launch at him, pinning him down to the street. Peter pushed back, finding that the strength of the drone was equal to him, if not a little greater. “Good God who  _ made  _ you?” Peter grunted.

Of course, the robot said nothing, instead snapping at Peter’s head with the pinchers on its arm. Peter tried to swat the thing away, but one of his arms were restrained, giving him only one other to fight back with. 

The drone pinched the fabric of Peter’s mask and pulled it right off, exposing his face. “Oh  _ shit,”  _ Peter gasped. He needed that mask back. Like, now.

As Peter fought to get it back, the last thing he had expected to happen, happened. The Hulk came stomping through the streets towards Peter. 

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Shit shit shit shit.” He tried even harder to get free of the drone’s grasp, but he wasn’t able to crawl away until the Hulk sent the drone flying with one swipe of his large hand. 

Hulk looked down at Peter, who was on his back on the street. He studied Peter intently before saying, “You Avenger?” 

“Um, yes?” Peter squeaked, hoping that was the right answer. 

Hulk let out something similar to a laugh. “Baby.”

“Uh, what?” Peter sputtered out, confused. 

“You baby Avenger,” Hulk said. “Not even tiny.”

Peter vaguely remembered something along the lines of Thor being nicknamed “Tiny Avenger” but surely this wasn’t similar, right? “I’m not a baby,” Peter argued, standing up. 

“Baby,” Hulk repeated. “Drone almost kill you. I protect Baby Avenger.” Hulk reached for Peter, who quickly darted out of the way and snatched his mask off the ground. As soon as he grabbed it, however, Hulk swiped Peter up off the ground in his one fist. 

“Hey!” Peter yelled, hitting Hulk’s fist. “Put me down!” He wiggled in Hulk’s grasp, but was unable to get free. He even resorted to trying to pry apart his fingers.

“You strong,” Hulk said, brows furrowed. “But I stronger than Baby.” 

“Ugh!” Peter groaned, still banging on Hulk’s fist. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me.”

Hulk let out a low growl. “Stark don’t touch. I save you.” 

The growl was more menacing than Peter imagined. “Oh, no, I, um, Mr. Stark isn’t  _ really  _ going to kill me. I just meant he’s going to be mad that-” 

“Parker!” Tony barked, hovering in front of Hulk in his suit.

Peter couldn’t see Tony’s real face, but he imagined it was full of disapproval. 

“What did I say?” Tony asked. 

“Look, this isn’t my fault,” Peter explained. “I was-”

Tony held up a hand. “Save it.” He looked at Hulk, who was staring angrily at him. “What, Big Guy?”

“Why you have baby?” Hulk thrusted Peter towards Tony, still keeping him trapped in his fist.

“What?” Tony sputtered.

“Baby Avenger. Spider-Baby,” Hulk said. 

There was a moment of silence, followed by Tony’s loud burst of laughter. “Oh, my God,” he wheezed. “This is hilarious.”

“It is not!” Peter whined. “Let me go.”

“I protect baby,” Hulk said again. “Stark don’t.” 

That sobered Tony up immediately. “Hey, I protect the Spider-Baby.” But boy, he wasn’t letting that nickname go anytime soon. 

Peter groaned. “Will you stop calling me that? It’s Spider- _ Man.  _ I am not a baby.” 

“Sure, kid,” Tony said, a smile reappearing on his lips. He looked back at Hulk. “Now, why don’t you put him down and we can-”

“No,” Hulk grunted. “Baby need protection.”

Peter slouched in Hulk’s fist, crossing his arms. 

Tony looked at Peter, glad the kid couldn’t see his real face. He  _ looked  _ like a baby with the tantrum he was throwing. “Kid, where’s your mask? We’re in public, you know.”

“It got ripped off by a drone,” Peter explained. “And I dropped it when Hulk picked me up  _ unexpectedly.”  _

True to his word, Tony spotted Peter’s mask laying idly on the ground. He went and picked it up. “Well, until we get these drones to die, this stays on.” Instead of handing it back to Peter to put on himself, Tony slid the mask over Peter’s head, simply because he knew it would annoy him. “There we go.”

“I could have done it myself,” Peter muttered.

“I was only trying to help the baby,” Tony said.

This time, Peter didn’t rise to the bait, even though it annoyed him to no end. He wasn’t a baby. He was a teenager for crying out loud! Ignoring all comments about being an infant, Peter asked, “How do we stop these things?”

“Friday detected a main power source at the top of that building over there.” Tony pointed to one of the taller ones. “They’re all controlled by one thing. We shut that down, the drones go with it.” 

“What’s the point of the drones then? To cause chaos?” Peter asked. It seemed a little silly that someone would engineer these robots and unleash them on the city for the heck of it. Most chaos induced activities were created to cause a distraction.  

Tony shrugged. “Not a clue, kid. Guess we will find out when we get up there.” 

“No,” Hulk said. “Too high for baby.” 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Peter complained. “I’ve been higher than that.”

The Hulk got a surprised look on his face before glaring at Tony. “You no protect!” 

“Take it easy, Green Giant.” He shot a look at Peter. “The kid can make his own decisions. Sometimes,” he added. “If he wants to scale buildings higher than that, I can’t really stop him. But I can advise against it.” 

Still, this didn’t seem to appease Hulk. “He too little. He fall and die.”

“He’s not going to fall and die,” Tony assured. “Not under my watch.”

“I watch,” Hulk argued. “I take care of Baby Avenger.” 

“Okay,” Tony said slowly. “You can watch out for him.”

Peter hit Hulk’s fist. “Can I not be stuck in his grasp?” He tried to push himself out once more, but he couldn’t do it. If Hulk’s hands were a little smaller, he probably could. “And I can watch out for myself, thank you.” 

“Can you?” Tony asked in disbelief. “Because I don’t-”

“This isn’t going to help him let go of me!” Peter snapped, glaring at Tony.

“Cranky,” Hulk rumbled.

Tony let out a loud snort. “Yeah, kid’s always cranky.”

_ “Mr. Stark,” _ Peter whined.

Tony thought the kid might actually cry out of frustration. “Okay, okay.” He held both of his hands up. “Let’s  _ all  _ go up to the power source and get these drones shut down and then we will go back to the compound where it’s  _ safe  _ for baby avengers.” He aimed the last part at Hulk.

“But I want out now!” 

Both of Tony’s brows raised high. “Do you know how much like a child you just sounded?” 

Peter banged on Hulk’s fist. “Because I am one!” 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you admit it,” Tony said, trying to make light of the situation. He could tell Peter was starting to freak out, and when he freaked out, Tony freaked out.

Peter slumped and leaned backwards, his breathing heavy. “Mr. Stark,  _ please,”  _ he begged.

“Is he hurting you?” Tony asked. The thought only occurred to him now.

“No, I’m just . . . stuck.” He said the last part slowly, as if he didn’t even want to admit to himself how stuck he was. Tony didn’t know if the kid had a fear of being trapped or what, but he seemed like he was on the verge of a freak out. Tony was going to have to ask Peter about that later. 

“Hulk,” Tony said. “Can you please let go of him? He’s fine.” 

“No.” 

“Why?” Tony asked. “He isn't in any immediate danger.” 

“Avenger small. Me big. I protect,” Hulk said. 

“Protect him from what? The drones are down.” For the moment anyway. He only had so long before Peter's webs wore off and they were free again. 

“Not dead.” Hulk looked towards one of the drones pinned to the ground by webbing. 

“They're not going to hurt him.” Tony had a feeling he wasn't going to get it through the big guy's head that Peter was okay. 

Hulk didn’t say anything. He continued to stare at Tony while keeping Peter firmly in his grasp. 

Tony sighed. “Kid, I think you’re stuck there until this is over.” 

Peter’s frown deepened, and he looked like a grumpy child who just got his ice cream taken away. “You didn’t tell me  _ this  _ is what was going to happen if I went near Hulk.” 

“I didn’t know he would do this!” Tony countered. “He’s never done anything like this before.” 

“Probably because everyone on your team qualifies for a senior discount when they go out places,” Peter said. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “How old do you think we are? Clint’s the oldest out of all of us and he’s not even that old.” 

“That man can barely hear,” Peter argued.

“Yes, well, not all of us have super hearing, now do we?” Tony asked. Besides Peter, Steve was the only one who had enhanced - well,  _ everything.  _ Him and Peter were practically evenly matched. Although, Steve had more muscle to his build than the kid did, obviously. 

“Can we, just, hurry this up? I want to go home.” Peter deflated. 

“You want to go home? That’s a first,” Tony remarked. 

Peter shot daggers at him. “I’m being treated like I’m five and it’s embarrassing. My masculinity is suffering.” 

Tony barked out a laugh. “Other than your . . . superhero name, what about you screams  _ man?”  _

“Ugh!” Peter groaned. “This is the worst day of my life.” 

“No,” Tony disagreed. “I’m sure there will be worse.” 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Peter snapped. “You’re supposed to encourage me and tell me life gets better. Not that things will be worse!” 

Man was Peter grumpy. “Sorry,” Tony apologized. “My fatherly skills are a little nonexistent. I’m not sure how to properly encourage you.” 

Peter sighed, trying not to focus on the fact that Tony Stark said the word  _ fatherly  _ and it was aimed at  _ him.  _ He was beginning to think Ned was more and more right with every passing day about Tony Stark basically being some kind of father to him. And Tony may not think so or even realize it, but he encourages Peter in a lot more things than he knows.

Tony told him once he wanted him to be better. 

Peter was trying.

“You’re doing your best,” Peter finally said. “Sometimes your good at it.” 

“Only sometimes?” Tony asked, only mocking him a little bit. But there was a serious undertone lying in his words.

“Only sometimes,” Peter confirmed. 

Tony was quiet for a moment before saying, “Guess I’ll have to try harder.” 

“Me too,” Peter said quietly to himself. 

“Hulk bored,” Hulk grunted. “You two boring.” 

And just like that, the moment was gone. 

“Then let’s go up there and destroy that satellite, shall we?” Tony suggested.

At this, Hulk lit up. “Hulk smash!” he yelled.

Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Oh God.” 

Before Tony could say anything, Hulk took off, still keeping a hold on Peter. He followed quickly after them in his suit, wondering how the hell Hulk planned on getting to the top of the building when he saw for himself.

The big guy had gone to the corner of the building and began to climb up, purposely avoiding windows. He climbed it like a rock wall, making a speed that impressed even Tony. But at least he wasn’t smashing out windows and destroying the thing. Drones were enough destruction.

Tony kept a close eye on Peter, who looked like he was seconds away from throwing up. Hulk must be jostling him around quite a bit. “Hey, Big Guy!” Tony shouted. “Take it easy! You’re going to give him shaken baby syndrome.” He didn’t have to be close to them to hear Peter’s groan. He knew the kid was suffering from some serious embarrassment. 

The Hulk continued his climb, acting like he hadn’t heard Tony at all. It wasn’t much longer until the three of them reached the top, spotting the large device that controlled the drones.

Much to Tony’s surprise, the thing was left unprotected. 

“This has to be a setup,” Peter said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, he was definitely feeling dizzy. “I don’t expect to just turn it off and be done. Even though that’s what I would like.” 

Tony landed on the roof of the building, removing his face plate. “I don’t know, kid. We’re allowed a break sometime.” He walked over to the device, looking at it carefully. “Friday, run a scan and tell me how to turn this off.” 

“Smash?” Hulk asked, looking at Tony.

“You don’t get to smash anything until you put Baby Avenger down,” Tony answered.

At this point, Peter gave up groaning and whining about his nicknames. Instead, he just had a constant state of annoyance etched on his face. “Just let him smash the thing so we can go.”

“What if ‘the thing’ makes the drones worse if it’s destroyed, hmm?” Tony asked. “Then what?”

“Then we cross that bridge when we get to it,” Peter answered.

Tony’s eyes went wide as he rolled them. “Obviously you’re done thinking rationally for the day, so I’ll handle the rest of this.” He waved his hand at the device.

“That’s kind of your thing anyway, isn’t it?” Peter asked. “I’m just here for help. Sometimes,” he bit out. 

Tony made a mental note to never let Hulk and Peter cross paths again. The kid needed to go home and hide under the covers to his bed for a while. “You were help today,” Tony assured. “The drones are out of commision because of you and your webs.”

“Well, they won’t last forever,” Peter reminded. 

“Just as soon as Friday tells me how to shut this off properly, I will and we can be done,” Tony said.

“Hulk bored!” Hulk roared. He suddenly dropped Peter then, who hit the ground with a loud thump.

Tony winced at the sound, but didn’t have time to ask Peter if he was okay. Instead, he was shouting, “Hulk, don’t you dare!”

But Hulk dared. He pounded the machine with both of his fists, blowing it to bits. Pieces of the machine broke off and fell over the side of the building, hitting the streets below.

Peter slowly crawled away from the Hulk, sliding over the side of the building, gripping to it with his feet and hands.

Tony watched him closely, wondering if he should say anything at all. When Peter caught his gaze, Tony just gave him a subtle nod. That was all Peter needed to continue his quick descent down the building. 

It had been a while since Tony had seen him use his hands and feet to stick to stuff. Usually the kid free fell and used his web shooters to get down from high places.

After a few seconds, the device was nothing but scrap pieces. Hulk huffed and puffed, his fists still clenched tightly. 

“What did I just say?” Tony snapped at the green guy. “That was not cool, Hulk.”

Hulk looked around. “Where Baby?” 

“Baby needed a serious nap,” Tony said. “So he went home.”

“I protect Baby!” Hulk roared. 

“Yeah, well, he didn’t really need it. But thanks for saving his ass on the street down there.” Other than that, the kid didn’t need protecting. Not right now, anyway. The drones were easy to handle. Still, Tony didn’t understand who unleashed them in the city and why. 

“Will Baby come back?” Hulk asked, actually sounding a little sad that Peter was gone. 

Tony looked at him closely. “Uh, maybe.” Yeah, that was a big, fat no. He would be surprised if Peter ever wanted to mention the Hulk again after today. “I think you upset him.”

“I want to protect,” Hulk said with a frown. “He too little.” 

That was something Tony could agree with. “Yeah, he is very little, but he is also very strong. Like, Hulk strong. Steve Rogers strong. He can handle himself.” For the most part. It had taken Tony forever, but he learned when to interfere and when not to. And it helped that the kid started to admit more and more when he  _ needed  _ help, rather than thinking he could do everything by himself.

Tony looked down below, seeing the drones trapped beneath Peter’s webs very still. It seemed that smashing the machine didn’t make them worse after all. “How about we go back to the compound and call it a day?” He would let the police handle the cleanup.  

“Baby Avenger there?” Hulk asked.

“I’m not sure,” Tony said truthfully. “But how about you let Brucie come back so we can finish what we were doing together?” 

Hulk sighed. “No one like Hulk. Not even Baby Avenger.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “He likes you,” Tony said. “He was just grumpy today.”  _ Because of you, _ he didn’t add. 

“Okay,” Hulk conceded, letting Bruce Banner come back out. 

Bruce lay on the roof, looking up at the sky. “Was he okay?” 

Tony gave him a look that said it all.

“Oh no,” Bruce groaned.

“He was fine,” Tony said quickly. “He just got on Spider-Man's nerves.” He couldn’t help the laugh that came out. 

Bruce lifted up his head. “He got . . . on Spider-Man's  _ nerves?”  _ That wasn’t typically what people associated the Hulk with. "Wait, Spider-Man was  _here?!"_

“Yeah, let’s just say in Hulk’s eyes, Spider-Man is a baby who needs protection.” Tony shook his head. "And, yes, he was here, much as you probably expected. Since, you know, where there's one there's the other." 

“Oh God,” Bruce sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "You need to tell him I'm sorry for whatever happened.

Tony let out a laugh. "Don't worry too much about it, it was hilarious." 

Still, Bruce couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips. 

~*~

Peter had gone back to the compound, Tony discovered. 

Or, if he was being specific, Peter went back to his room in the compound and lied on the bed in the dark, facing the wall. 

“You know the sun is still out,” Tony said to Peter upon walking in his room. “It’s a little too early for bed.”

“But it’s never too late for a nap,” Peter countered. 

Tony snorted. “Since when do you take naps?”

“Since wounding my pride was so exhausting,” Peter answered.

“Look on the bright side, kid,” Tony said. “I’m the only other person who witnessed it.”

Peter turned over in his bed to face Tony. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a positive thing or not.” Knowing Tony, it wasn’t.

“Eh, we’ll see,” Tony said. Then a grin spread across his face. “But I’ll let the baby go back to his nap.”

With a loud groan, Peter pulled the pillow over his head and rolled back over. Peter could still hear Tony’s laugh echoing down the hall as he left him be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO, if you're seeing this note, just know that you have read approximately 123 pages of this fanfiction!


	13. What Really Happened On Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally learns what happened the night of homecoming and he can't say he's too thrilled about the events that unfolded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It's been longer than usual from when I post new chapters, so I hope you guys are still around for this one! It's a cliche, but I know people love it and I sometimes do to, and it's been requested a few times, so here you go! 
> 
> I also only have one more idea that I'd really like to churn out at some point so that may or may not be the last chapter of this work. I haven't been too into writing lately and am slammed with work and am actually sick at the moment, so I just like to sit at home and do absolutely n o t h i n g. 
> 
> So, yeah, there may only be one chapter left! We will see ;) Maybe life will improve and I'll want to write more. I'd just hate to stop this work for a few weeks - maybe even up to a month - and then come back and start it again. I feel like that's inconsistent and no one would like that. Unless you guys don't care. Feel free to let me know how you would feel about that in the comments!
> 
> *Edit on 11/16/18: yeah...about that maybe one chapter...i suppose if it hasn't come by now, it might not come at all...lol. sorry, but I just lost the writing bug and probably won't actually get it back until we get Avengers 4, so maybe I can come back to this work around then? I'm glad so many of you read this far and told me how much you loved it <3 I really loved writing it! So i hope someday soon I'll be able to revisit this work. Thank you for reading:)

It happened so long ago, Peter wasn’t even sure why he still thought about it. Or dreamed about it. 

He was fine. He was okay. Well and alive. So why did his subconscious always bring the memory back when he fell asleep? Was living through it once not enough? 

Apparently not.

And of course -  _ of course -  _ the nightmare chose this night to come back and haunt him. Peter didn’t dream of it every night (thank God) but when he did, it was often times bad. He would wake up, hot and sweaty, barely able to catch a breath. He would look at his hands and fingers to make sure they were clean of blood and dust. 

They always were. 

But he still had to check.

Peter sat upright in his bed, taking deep breaths. He pushed his hair out of his face, feeling the dampness of it. He cringed at the feeling. 

“Peter.” The sound of Friday’s voice was enough to startle the kid, making him jump. “Would you like me to turn on the lights?”

Even though Peter loved the idea of AI’s and loved the AI in his suit, he still sometimes found Friday to be a little . . . freaky. She was always watching. Sensing. Knew everything and anything pertaining to him, and though he thought it could be endearing at times (because Tony Stark took time out of his day to program her appropriately to take care of Peter’s needs should he ever need them), having eyes on him constantly didn’t make him feel . . . like he had privacy. 

Tony swore he never abused his AI’s powers and stalked the people living or visiting at the compound, and Peter did believe him, but there were times Friday did still tell Tony certain things - just because that’s what she was programmed to do. Depending on the level of importance or if it was an emergency, all privacy settings were null and void to Tony.

Despite himself, Peter still took full advantage of the AI. “Please,” he responded. “But . . . just dim them.” His senses were always out of whack when he woke up from a nightmare, and he often needed time to calm down and let them adjust before doing anything else.

The lights in the room came on, but they were dim enough to create a soft ambiance that any person would love. It felt cozy. Warm. 

Things that Peter didn’t currently feel. 

He rested his head in his hands, letting out a final sigh. Peter climbed out of bed and walked over to his door, peeking out into the hallway for any signs on life. When he found none, he continued out of his room and padded softly down the hallway towards the kitchen on this floor. All he wanted was a bottle of water and to go back to bed, but he got so much more than that when he flicked on the light.

Tony Stark sat at the island on the kitchen, sipping on what Peter only assumed was a cup of coffee. The man didn’t even glance over at Peter as he set down his mug and said, “It’s a school night.” 

Peter walked over to the fridge and opened it up, grabbing the bottle of water he came here for. “So it is,” he answered.

“You aware,” Tony said, raising his brows. “But yet here you are. Awake and . . .” He finally looked at Peter, seeing that he was wearing a rumpled up t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hm.” 

“What?” Peter said with a sigh. 

“I was prepared to give you a lecture about Spider-Manning so late on a school night but it appears that I am wrong as to why you’re in my kitchen at two in the morning.” His usual run ins with Peter at this time were  _ because  _ he had been out patrolling the city. There were quite a few times when Peter would come in here late, thinking he could avoid his aunt’s wrath about being out so late. Turned out he would tell her he was spending the night here and then go out and patrol for God knows how long. It only took Tony two times to figure that out. 

“Yeah, no, I wasn’t . . .  _ Spider-Manning  _ tonight,” Peter said. Even he knew to draw the line on school nights. Even though that line was often at midnight where he still had to get up at six thirty the next day for school. Two in the morning would be killer.

“Then what are you doing?” Tony asked, taking another sip of coffee. 

Peter raised the water bottle in his hands. “Getting a drink.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. “I meant why are you awake at two in the morning on a school night?”

A small smirk appeared on Peter’s face. “Then why didn’t you just say that? I was thirsty.” 

If Tony didn’t already have a headache, he was sure going to get one now. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So you just woke up, decided you were thirsty, and came to get a drink?” 

“Yep,” Peter said.

Tony stared at him. “You’ve told me a lot of lies, kid, but this one by far is the worst. You need to work on your skills.” 

“I  _ am  _ thirsty.” To prove his point, he screwed off the lid and chugged half the bottle. 

Why was it so hard for Tony to just come out and say it? Because he didn’t want to betray the kid’s trust? His privacy? It wasn’t his fault Friday informed him of Peter’s . . . issue a while ago. He had a certain set of protocols enlisted in the AI’s coding to notify him of specific things. For example, accelerated heart rate. 

He had learned once, a while back, that Peter’s heart rate didn’t quite match the one of an average human. It beat a little quicker, therefore he had to adjust the settings for Peter in the event of an “emergency.” But the ratings Friday had displayed to him about ten minutes ago were off the charts - especially for Peter. 

“Sooo,” Peter drawled out. “Can I go back to bed?” He wasn’t even sure he could. His nightmares tended to keep him up long after they woke him up. He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t go back to sleep before his alarm went off. 

Tony let out a sigh and looked at Peter. He really didn’t want to do this, but he knew he needed to. “I want to talk to you first.” 

“Okay?” Now Peter was growing concerned. He and Tony talked a lot, but never accompanied by those words. The last time Tony wanted to talk to him, it was to tell him he could be the newest Avenger. Of course, Peter had turned him down then, but that panic was still there. 

“Jesus, kid, I only want to talk to you. Don’t have a heart attack,” Tony told him, getting up from his seat. “Come to the living room.” He didn’t wait for Peter to follow.

The two of them entered the living space, where the lights were dimmed, similar to the way Peter’s room waas when Friday turned on the lights for him. Peter sat down on the couch, while Tony took up residence in the chair across from him.

“What do you want to talk about?” Peter asked, his voice a little squeaky. 

Tony held up one hand. “Kid, chill. Why are you so worked up?” It reminded him a little of the time Hulk held him in his grasp and wouldn’t let go. How Peter . . . was almost panicked by the thought of not being able to get out.

Peter shrugged. “Guess I’m not fully awake yet.” 

Tony was just going to come out and say it. “I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” Maybe not  _ hiding  _ something, but there was definitely something the kid skirted around. “I want to know what is is.” 

Peter’s face paled. “I’m not hiding anything,” he said. “What would I be hiding?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” Tony replied. He wasn’t as observant as, say, Natasha, but he noticed the way Peter wrung his hands nervously. He also had a bad habit for bouncing his leg when he was nervous, but he wasn’t sitting far enough off the couch to do that. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not,” Peter agreed.

Tony’s brows rose. “So you  _ are  _ hiding something from me!” 

“What? No, I was just saying - if I was - you know, hypothetically hiding something, that, uh, it’s not a big deal,” Peter sputtered.

“Kid, we both know you stutter and get all flustered when you’re nervous, so spill,” Tony said, staring at Peter and waiting for him to speak.

Peter looked around the room, working up the courage to tell Tony the truth. He didn’t even know  _ why  _ he found it so hard to tell Tony he had problems sleeping sometimes. Everyone has trouble, right? 

“Pete,” Tony tried again. “I know sometimes I’m not the easiest person to talk to, but I like to think you and I have a better  . . . relationship than I do with most of the others. You can talk to me and I can talk to you and it’s not so scary.” 

“I feel like you talk to Ms. Potts more about your troubles than you do me,” Peter admitted. In fact, Tony very rarely told Peter anything personal. Unless he had a story to relate to something Peter was going through, he remained a pretty private person.

The kid had him there. “Okay, so maybe I do,” Tony admitted. “But you probably know more about me than most of the Avengers combined. Which means you also know I am not just going to let you walk out of here without allowing me to help you solve whatever is going on with you.” 

How did Tony know something was going on with him? Peter squinted his eyes at the man. “What makes you think something is going on?” 

“You basically admitted you were hiding something from me,” Tony said easily. 

Peter shook his head slowly. “No, there’s something more to it.”  

_ Damn,  _ Tony cursed to himself. This is what he gets for investing so much time in such a smart kid. “Fine. You tell me your secret and I’ll tell you mine.” 

Peter made a face. “I’m not sure I like that deal.” 

“I sure as hell don’t, but neither of us will get anywhere if we don’t share,” Tony told him. It seemed that Pepper was right about one thing: they were both stubborn as hell. If she were here, she would get the secret right out of Peter. 

“Then I guess I’ll go back to bed since I have to get up soon,” Peter said, starting to get up when Tony stopped him.

“No, sit down. We aren’t done.” 

Peter plopped back down dramatically. “How are you going to get mad at me for being up so late but then you keep me up so late yourself?” 

“Quit trying to turn this back on me,” Tony replied. “If you’re that tired by six, then you can skip school or go in late.” 

Peter’s eyes went wide. “You’re encouraging me to skip school?” If anything, Tony always told him how important it was that he  _ never  _ miss a day of education. Even though Peter had told him once that he could learn more just from looking at Stark Tower from a distance, Tony wasn’t impressed. He told him he still needed to go to class, even if he  _ could  _ learn more from looking at a building. 

“I’m not encouraging you to skip school,” Tony said defensively. “But you can’t go there and learn and absorb information like you should if you’re dead tired and can’t stay awake.”

“And you know all about that, don’t you?” Peter asked. He didn’t mean for it to come out sounding mean, but that’s exactly how it flowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Tony cut him off with a raised hand. “No, I do,” he said. “Honestly. I’m sure you know how much of a partier I used to be.” And at this point, who didn’t? 

Peter shrugged and looked at the carpet. “I, um, that’s what news articles say, but that’s just news articles. I don’t really try to believe what they say.” 

That shocked Tony. He had never met a person that didn’t claim to already know everything about him  _ because  _ of news and tabloids and all that shit. “Well, some of it is true,” he reluctantly admitted. “I got around. Partied. Hard,” he added. “Stayed up until the sun rose and didn’t wake until it set. Or even when I got older, I would stay up all night and stay up all day. That pissed Pepper off a lot.” 

“Why?” Peter asked. This was the most information Tony ever offered up.

“Because I couldn’t focus or retain information that was given to me. I would sit in meetings all day and come out and it be like I was never actually there at all. I still don’t remember a single thing that happened at some of those meetings. I would have Jarvis - my old AI - give me a rundown when I was alert enough.” Those were days he’d like to forget, if he were being honest with himself.

Peter leaned forward on the couch and began bouncing his leg. “No offense, Mr. Stark, but why are you telling me this?” 

Tony stood up and walked over to Peter, placing one hand on his shoulder. “It’s like I told you before. I want you to be  _ better.”  _ He moved his hand to Peter’s leg and pressed down on it, forcing him to stop bouncing it. “And quit doing that.” He didn’t want the kid to be nervous. Not around him.

“Sorry,” Peter murmured.

Tony waved his hand. “So I want you to tell me what’s going on with you. I actually meant to ask you a few days ago with the whole Hulk incident, but I got sidetracked.”

“What do you mean?” Peter was confused. 

“You had this . . . look on your face that I could only describe as panic when you couldn’t get free. Do you have a fear of small spaces or something? Getting stuck?” Tony knew he struck a chord when Peter’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of getting stuck. The kid’s face paled and he swallowed thickly. “Ah.”

Peter shook his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. “No, no, it’s fine, really. Just - it’s nothing.” 

Clearly it wasn’t. “I’m doubtful, kid. Tell me what it is. I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t fix.”

“It happened a long time ago and I’m fine, as you can see, so it’s really not a big deal. It doesn’t matter anymore,” he rambled. 

“It matters if it happened,” Tony said. 

Peter let out a soft snort. “Since when did you become so invested and caring into my business?” He meant it seriously. A lot of the times, Tony was distant and kept to himself. But here lately, he was more open and ready to talk. But to Peter only. 

“Since you became my kid,” Tony answered honestly. “I worry about you. But don’t you dare tell anyone what I said or I’ll deny it all, you hear me?” 

Peter laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you have a reputation to maintain.” 

“I do,” Tony agreed, sitting back down on the couch. “So tell me. What’s on your mind?” 

It was hard to keep his leg from bouncing out of nerves. “I, um, I have nightmares sometimes,” he admitted. “Not all the time,” he quickly added. “Just sometimes. It’s not every night or anything.” 

Nightmares. For some reason, that wasn’t what Tony had been expecting Peter to say at all. Then again, he didn’t really know what else Peter could have said. But thankfully, this was a topic Tony had a  _ lot  _ of experience in. He could fix this issue. Or try his damned best to. “I get those a lot, too.” 

Peter’s brows shot up. “You do?”

“Why else do you think I’m up this late at night? Sometimes later?” he questioned. “It’s because I can’t sleep.”

Peter had no idea Tony didn’t sleep because of  _ nightmares.  _ “What do you dream about?” he asked quietly. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe his dreams were stupid compared to Tony’s. 

“There’s a lot, kid,” Tony told him. “It varies every night. From the battle in New York all those years ago to-” He stopped abruptly. The kid didn’t need to know the latest of what his mind conjured up. “Just . . . my dreams are combined sometimes. From all the shit I’ve been through. But we aren’t talking about me, we are talking about you. I know being Spider-Man has its . . . downsides, at times, but what, specifically, are you dreaming about?” Tony tried to think of what was so horrible it haunted Peter at night, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything that insane. 

Peter reached up and itched the back of his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Um, well . .  It’s nothing compared to your dreams, so really it’s-”

“Finish that with ‘not a big deal’ and I swear I will throttle you myself,” Tony interrupted.

Peter blew out a breath. “I may dream about . . . being crushed by a building,” he said quickly, daring to glance at Tony. 

At this, Tony was confused. “Why do you dream about that?” Out of all things he expected the kid to have nightmares about, being crushed by a building was not one of them. Tony was expecting aliens, or his aunt in peril, or even  _ himself  _ in danger, but not this.

And here’s where Peter didn’t want to explain any further. He thought about lying and saying he didn’t know, but he had a feeling Friday could tell he was lying. All she would have to do is read his heart rate and voice tone to know something was off. There really was no lying to Tony Stark. Well, you could, but only if he allowed it. 

“Kid? Hello?” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “Are you still with me? Why do you dream about collapsing buildings?”

He was going to find out sooner or later, Peter supposed. Might as well be now. “Because, uh, it may have actually happened once.” He looked away, expecting Tony to explode and demand more details, but what he got was torturous silence. 

Tony stared at him, silent and unmoving. Surely the kid wasn’t serious? When could a building have collapsed on him? And Tony not know about it! Tony knew everything about the kid. More than what he probably should. But when you leave a teenager with superpowers alone with a multimillion dollar suit, trouble is bound to follow. It’s why he keeps close tabs on him.

Or so he tells himself.

“So as you can see,” Peter barreled on when Tony said nothing, “it really isn’t a big-”

“When the hell did you get crushed by a building?!” Tony suddenly exploded. Not only was he mad because his kid was crushed by a  _ cement structure,  _ but also because he didn’t know about it. How could he not have known about it?!

“Um, it was a while back,” Peter told him. “Like, all the way back to homecoming.” 

Christ! That was months ago! Nearly a year ago! And he was just now finding out about this? “How?” Tony demanded. “And by who?” The latter was more important to him at this moment. He would find whoever did it and make them-

“What makes you think someone did it to me?” Peter asked, cutting off Tony’s thoughts. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Buildings don’t typically just collapse, Peter.”

Oh, God. The use of his  _ actual name.  _

“So tell me, who did it to you?” 

The glare in his eyes were enough to tell Peter that Tony wasn’t messing around. “He’s in prison now, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

Tony leaned back in his seat, slumping his shoulders. “It was Vulture.” 

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed. “I tracked him down after he dropped me and Liz off at the dance because he was going to steal your plane. I found him at a warehouse. We talked for a minute and then he quickly destroyed all the support beams and sent the place crashing down.”

Unbelievable. Tony was going to kill that man. If prison didn’t do it first. “Jesus, kid, how are you still alive? I’m glad that you are,” he quickly added, “but most people tend to not survive those things. How did you get out? Why didn’t you call for help?” 

Hoping that Tony would skip over the last question, Peter answered it first, followed by the rest. “I couldn’t call for help, and I lifted the building off of me. Guess my spidey strength is stronger than I realized.” He let out a nervous laugh. 

The kid lifted a building!? What the fuck! Tony could barely wrap his mind around anything he was hearing. “Why couldn’t you call for help?”

“I wasn’t wearing my suit,” Peter answered quickly. Technically not a lie. But also not really telling the truth. He  _ was  _ wearing a suit, just not the one Tony made him.

Tony studied him. I doubt you went after a villain in your street clothes, so tell me the truth about why you weren’t wearing your suit.  _ And then _ tell me how the hell you lifted a building off of you with no assistance.” 

Here it comes. “I, uh, didn’t have my suit.”

“Then what did you wear when you decided it was a good idea to chase down the Vulture when you were previously at a school dance? I know it wasn’t the suit you rented.” And if it was . . . God help him. 

“No, no, I didn’t have  _ the  _ suit. I wore  _ my  _ suit,” Peter explained. 

Tony blinked, thinking about the kid’s specific choice of words. He was dancing around the main point because . . . “This was when I took your suit away.” Not a question, but a definite statement. Tony remembered now. He had taken the suit away a few days earlier because of the ferry incident.

“Yeah, but it’s not your fault!” Peter quickly explained. He knew Tony was going to blame himself for the building collapsing and Peter not being able to get help. “I messed up and you were right to take it away.” That was hard to admit out loud. “But because of it, I found strength in myself.  _ Without  _ the suit,” he said. “Just like you wanted.” 

If Tony still drank like he used to, he would down about five glasses of his favorite alcohol right now. “I didn’t want you to learn like that! Christ, kid, you got crushed by a building! Because you couldn’t call for help or backup or  _ anything.”  _

“But it’s not your fault,” Peter peristed. “It’s mine. If I didn’t destroy that stupid ferry-”

“You didn’t destroy it. The people dealing illegal alien arms did,” Tony interrupted. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “That’s not what you were saying a few months ago.” 

Tony waved his hand. “Either way, I was the one who took your suit, so it was my fault you were stranded. And now you have nightmares about it.” The one - actually one of many - things Tony didn’t want the kid to worry about was nightmares. He knew from personal experience how much they could mess up your life. That constant paranoia and purposefully avoiding sleep so you didn’t have to see those images . . .

“It’s not every night,” Peter said quietly. “I still get sleep. Except for now, since you’re keeping me up. On a school night,” he added.

Tony scoffed. “Please. As if you’re worried about making it on time to school tomorrow.” 

Now it was Peter’s turn to scoff. “Hey, I have to keep a good record if I’m going to get into MIT.” Not that he was specifically aiming for MIT, but if he could go there, it wouldn’t be too terrible for him. 

“Kid, you could skip every day of school for the rest of the year and I could still get you into MIT,” Tony informed.

Peter made a face. “I don’t want to be one of those kids whose parents bought their way through life. That’s not my style.” 

Tony didn’t miss the way Peter referenced him as a  _ parent.  _ “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to cramp that more than it already is.” 

“Hey!” Peter exclaimed.

Tony chuckled. “But in all seriousness, kid, I’m only going to say this once so you have less proof that I even apologize, but I am sorry for . . . taking your suit away and nearly getting you killed.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped. “You did not nearly get me killed. I nearly got myself killed because I don’t listen.” 

“Wow, another time you admit that you don’t typically listen,” Tony observed. “I’ll have Friday add that to my folder of ‘times Peter Parker admitted he didn’t listen.’” 

“You don’t have that folder,” Peter said, trying to call his bluff. 

“Oh, I do, and it’s getting fuller than yours of me saying I’m sorry,” Tony informed.

Peter didn’t keep a folder, but he was sure to ask Friday later to play back any clips of Tony apologizing to him. “You’re too competitive.” 

“I have to be. I’m only human after all,” Tony said.

“As opposed to what?” Peter retorted.

“Peter Parker. AKA: Spider-Man. I can’t have a super powered teenager showing me up. It ruins my reputation.” Not that he had a great one to begin with, but he was slowly working up to it. As long as he kept the kid around, it would be repaired in no time. Not that he really cared. 

“It doesn’t take me to ruin your reputation,” Peter snickered. 

Tony rolled his eyes and stood up. “Okay, wise ass, go back to bed. And since I can already hear the complaint that’s going to come out of your mouth in a minute, you can go into school late if you’re still tired by six in the morning.” 

A small smile graced Peter’s lips. Tony knew him so well. “I hope I don’t sleep until two in the afternoon then.” 

“Oh, you won’t,” Tony said seriously. 

Peter shook his head, smiling. “Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” He made to go back to his room when Tony stopped him once more.

“Oh, and, kid, if you ever have . . . more of those nightmares, you can talk to me about it if you want. I know they suck and it’s . . . sometimes hard to deal with them, but they’re all in the past. You’re here and alive and fine and that’s what’s important.” God. That was enough sap for one day. 

Peter smiled at him. “Thanks. And . . . I would like to extend the same offer to you.”

Now  _ that  _ was a bad idea. “I’m not going to plague your mind with my tainted memories. But thanks for the offer.” It  _ was  _ really nice of him to do that, however.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter said with a yawn. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” Tony replied, even though the night was only good at this hour if Peter had never been woken up like he did in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) I love all the support and comments you guys leave me


	14. Stealth Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter set out to see how good Happy Hogan really is at being Head of Security. Turns out, they're not very good at sleuthing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been SO LONG. so long. But that Endgame trailer really triggered the spark I needed, and I started reading fanfic and talking theories and just had to write more myself. Sorry it's been so long! But I hadn't felt like writing in AGES and now I have. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Really. It's not very long and probably one of my shortest, but i still thought it to be entertaining. Hopefully I'll start writing more again soon! This is just a tiny snippet I thought of last week :) please let me know what you think and if you would like more

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop making so much noise, I will program this entire building to keep you off the premises,” Tony whispered harshly, glancing over his shoulder at Peter.

“Me!?” Peter whispered back incredulously. “You’re the one throwing all your weight down on the ducts. If anything,  _ you’re  _ making all the sound.” Ridiculous. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Then tell me why the sound is coming from behind me, conveniently where you are.” 

If they weren’t on a stealth mission right now, Peter would most definitely be giving Tony an earful. But that would have to come later, when they weren’t crawling around in ducts that connected throughout the building. After all, they  _ were  _ trying to be silent. 

“Maybe it’s time you invent some super sonic hearing aids, because you’re delusional if you think that sound is coming from me.” 

Tony paused his crawling, sparing a look over his shoulder. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you called me deaf, or-”

“Shh!” Peter hissed. “I hear him.” 

Tony went quiet as he looked through the tiny slits in the air vent. He squint his eyes and moved his head up and down, trying to get a better look at the floor beneath them. “Are you sure, kid? Because-”

“Yes! Be quiet before he hears you.”

With a grumble, and kept his eyes focused on the floor. Peter said a lot of unbelievable things, but the kid’s hearing was out of this world. If he said he heard the guy, then he did. Tony just wished he would tell him how far away he was before sentencing him to silence. 

“Here he comes,” Peter whispered. He couldn’t see out of the vent himself since Tony was in the way, but he didn’t need to. His hearing made up for what he couldn’t physically see. 

There, just below where Tony and Peter resided, slowly walked none other than Happy Hogan. He paused in the hallway, looking at his tablet. 

“I know you’re in here,” Happy said, voice deep. “Come out before I initiate the intruder protocol.” 

At that, Peter’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “Would he really?” he asked Tony quietly, hoping he didn’t just give away their location.

For once in his life, Tony didn’t know the answer to that. “He takes his job as Head of Security very seriously.” 

“But what does that protocol do?” Peter asked. He knew many of the ones Tony had created in the compound, but this was one he hadn’t heard of before. Maybe because it was in Happy’s area of expertise. 

“Ehhh,” Tony began. “Let’s save the demonstration for another time.” 

Just then, Happy looked up at the vent, and Tony quickly backed away from it, bumping into Peter.

“Watch it!” Peter hissed. 

“Then get out of my way,” Tony shot back.

“Your way!? You’re supposed to be going forwards, not backwards!” 

Confusion muddled Happy’s features at the sound of their voices. “Are you in the  _ vents?”  _

Tony, unsure of what to do - and not wanting to directly give away just  _ who  _ was in the vents, made the worst bird call Peter has ever heard in his life. 

Peter couldn’t hold back the howl of laughter that escaped his throat. There wasn’t much that Tony  _ couldn’t  _ do, but making impressionable bird calls was not one of them. “As if a bird would be in the vents!” Peter cackled.

“What the . . .?” Happy mumbled to himself before realizing . . .  _ “Parker!”  _

The sound of his last name made him sober up immediately. “Hey! If you’re going to yell, you might as well make it at the-”

“Say my name and you’re grounded,” Tony whispered harshly. 

“Ha!” Peter scoffed. “You wish.”

“Excuse me?” Tony raised a brow. 

“Who are you talking to?” Happy asked, placing his hands on his hips as he stared up at the vent. “You better not have some friend in there. You know the rules.”

Yeah yeah. No friends at the compound unless he had permission from Tony  _ and  _ Tony was present during all hours of the visit. It wasn’t a bad rule, per se, just an uncool one.

“I’d hardly say it’s a friend,” Peter told Happy. 

“Then who is it?” Happy demanded, and when Peter didn’t answer, added, “Don’t make me call Tony.” 

Peter snorted. “By all means, call Tony.” He shot an evil look at the man in question, a wide smile on his face. 

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Tony said, scrambling for his phone in his pocket.

“Hey, you’re the one who got us caught. Don’t be so loud next time.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “If anything, it was  _ your  _ loud mouth that got us caught.”

“You’re the one who made that horrible bird call! It sounded like a bird died and came back to life just to make that final sound before it left for good.” Peter laughed again just thinking about the noise.

“Are you talking to  _ Tony?”  _ Happy asked. 

“Guess you’ll have to call him and see,” Peter singsonged.

Happy let out a loud sigh. “Get out of the vents.” 

“Sure!” Peter lifted a hand and turned his whole body so it was facing the top of the vent. He pressed his other limbs to it and lifted himself up, crawling above Tony.

“You know, sometimes that really weirds me out,” Tony commented.

“You’ve seen weirder,” Peter replied, dropping down in front of Tony so they were both facing the vent. 

“You’re not wrong,” Tony answered. “And please don’t-”

Peter punched the vent out, sending it to the ground with a forceful clang.

“-break my vent,” Tony finished with a sigh. 

“Oops.”

Tony glared at the kid. “Don’t pretend like that wasn’t your intention.”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. Guess we will never know now!” He went face first through the vent, clinging to the ceiling and climbing along it and down the wall until he was on the floor facing Happy. “Hey, Mr.-”

“Save it,” Happy said, holding up a hand. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling, glowering at Tony’s face which hovered in the gap. “Care to tell me what you’re doing?” 

Tony glanced between Peter and Happy. “Would you believe me if I said I was only following the kid to keep him out of trouble?”

“Hey!” Peter whined.

The look on Happy’s face said  _ no.  _ “Maybe at one time, but now? No. What are you doing?”

“What if I said I’m still your boss and it’s none of your business?” Tony tried again.

“Then a few  _ more  _ years of my life would have just fallen off my total count,” Happy answered with a frown.

Peter snickered. “That’s good humor. But we were trying to see just how good you were at being Head of Security and how long it would take you to find us.”

“According to my time,” Friday intruded, “it took Mr. Hogan approximately twenty three minutes and fifteen seconds to discover you and Boss’s location in the air vents.” 

“That’s a new record!” Peter whooped, looking at Tony. “He’s getting better.”

“Excuse me?” Happy all but seethed. 

“Uh, I have homework I need to do and I left it at home, so I have to go,” Peter said suddenly, getting ready to take off down the hall.

“Hold it!” Tony hollered, not missing the frown on Peter’s face from being held back. “Firstly, you’re going to get me down from this vent so I don’t have to backtrack all the way back to where we started, and second, don’t think your snitch will go unpunished.” 

Peter muttered under his breath, walking up the wall and to the ceiling where the missing vent was. As easy as it would be for him (with his spidey strength) to just carry Tony back to the floor, that was no fun. So he fired a web at the man’s chest and yanked him from the duct, letting him hover just above the floor for a few seconds before gently placing him on the solid ground.

Tony rolled over, glaring daggers at the boy. “Do not,” he bit out, “do that again!” 

This time, it was Happy’s turn to laugh. “I think it was well deserved.” 

“Don’t make me fire you,” Tony threatened, though it was empty. 

“That would be a blessing more than a curse,” Happy replied. He held out a hand and helped Tony stand.

“As for you-” Tony began, whirling around on his heels.

“Mr. Parker has left,” Friday informed Tony, his scolding falling flat. “He said he had homework to do.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, kid’s always got homework to do.” He eyed the discarded vent cover on the floor. “Send a message to his suit for me, would you?”

“Of course, boss.”

“Tell him he owes me a new vent. And that he is to fix it himself.” 

Happy huffed. “You always end up having someone else replace whatever it is he broke this time. Why even bother telling him  _ he  _ has to fix it?”

“It’s called teaching him a lesson. And responsibility, I think,” Tony said with a shrug. 

“You  _ think?”  _ Happy asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not a parent.” 

“Neither am I, but I think he would actually  _ learn  _ it if you made him fix it himself,” Happy informed him.

Tony picked up the cover and held it in his hands. “All i’d have to do is give him a screwdriver and some screws and he could do it in five seconds. Kid wouldn’t even need to drag out a ladder. So no sense in making him do it.” 

“That is some of the worst logic that’s ever come out of your mouth,” Happy deadpanned.

“Yeah, well, I try to save my good logic for when Pete’s around so he can take something good from it. Be a better person and all that.” 

The two of them began walking down the hall, when Happy said, “Are you even going to tell me what, exactly, you two were doing?” 

“Just having some fun,” Tony replied. “Fun that doesn’t revolve around real work. Kid deserves some of it.” After all, he  _ is  _ just a kid. It wouldn’t kill him to do stupid things every now and then that didn’t involve injuries or peril. Or superheroing in general.

“Yeah, the kid,” Happy snorted. “Can’t you find fun that  _ doesn’t  _ involve me?” 

“You can’t contradict your name too much, you know,” Tony said. “That would be lying. And I don’t want the kid to hang around liars.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” Happy muttered, veering off into a different direction. “Next time you two decide to do something fun, leave me out of it!” 

“We’ll see!” Tony called after him, tossing the vent cover aside. “Friday, have someone come fix this, please.”

“Will do, Boss.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading:)
> 
> This is the LAST chapter of this work. Thank you so much for taking time to read this, or just any chapter if not all. This work was so much fun to make and it's my pride and joy. 
> 
> Let me know if you would like other works from me, or check out other works I've already made. 
> 
> I've thought about doing another mini series like this, but specifically post endgame one shots (that are all happy like this work :) ) so please let me know if that's something you'd like!


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